Chapter XVIII: Part 18

“Now you may get ready to go since you won’t stay with us; and you shall have the loan of my iron boat, which sails of itself, if you only say:

Boat, boat, go on!

“In that boat there is an iron club, and that club you must lift a little when you see the ship straight a-head of you, and then they’ll get such a rattling fair breeze, they’ll forget to look at you; but when you get alongside them, you must lift the club a little again, and then they’ll get such a foul wind and storm, they’ll have something else to do than to stare at you; and when you have run past them, you must lift the club a third time, but you must always be sure and lay it down carefully again, else there’ll be such a storm both you and they will be wrecked and lost. Now, when you have got to land, you’ve no need to bother yourself at all about the boat; just turn it about, and shove it off, and say:

Boat, boat, go back home!

When he set out they gave him so much gold and silver, and so many other costly things, and clothes and linen which the Troll Princess had sewn and woven for him all that long time, that he was far richer than any of his brothers.

Well, he had no sooner seated himself in the boat, and said,

Boat, boat, go on!

than away went the boat, and when he saw the ship right ahead he lifted up the club, and then they got such a fair breeze, they forgot to look at him. When he was alongside the ship, he lifted the club again, and then such a storm arose and such foul weather, that the white foam flew about the ship, and the billows rolled over the deck, and they had something else to do than to stare at him; and when he had run past them he lifted the club the third time, and then the storm and the wind rose so, they had still less time to look after him, and to make him out. So he came to land long, long before the ship; and when he had got all his goods out of the boat, he shoved it off again, and turned it about and said:

Boat, boat, go back home!

And off went the boat.

Then he dressed himself up as a sailor—whether the Troll king had told him that, or it was his own device, I’m sure I can’t say—and went up to a wretched hut where an old wife lived, whom he got to believe that he was a poor sailor who had been on board a great ship that was wrecked, and that he was the only soul that had got ashore. After that he begged for house-room for himself and the goods he had saved.

“Heaven mend me!” said the old wife, “how can I lend any one house-room? look at me and mine, why, I’ve no bed to sleep on myself, still less one for any one else to lie on.”

Well, well, it was all the same, said the sailor; if he only got a roof over his head, it didn’t matter where he lay. So she couldn’t turn him out of the house, when he was so thankful for what there was. That afternoon he fetched up his things, and the old wife, who was very eager to hear a bit of news to run about and tell, began at once to ask who he was, whence he came, whither he was bound, what it was he had with him, what his business was, and if he hadn’t heard anything of the twelve Princesses who had been away the Lord knew how many years. All this she asked and much more, which it would be waste of time to tell. But he said he was so poorly and had such a bad headache after the awful weather he had been out in, that he couldn’t answer any of her questions; she must just leave him alone and let him rest a few days till he came to himself after the hard work he’d had in the gale, and then she’d know all she wanted.

The very next day the old wife began to stir him up and ask again, but the sailor’s head was still so bad he hadn’t got his wits together, but somehow he let drop a word or two to show that he did know something about the Princesses. Off ran the old wife with what she had heard to all the gossips and chatterboxes round about, and soon the one came running after the other to ask about the Princesses, “if he had seen them”, “if they would soon be there”, “if they were on the way”, and much more of the same sort. He still went on groaning over his headache after the storm, so that he couldn’t tell them all about it, but so much he told them, unless they had been lost in the great storm they’d make the land in about a fortnight or before perhaps; but he couldn’t say for sure whether they were alive or no, for though he had seen them, it might very well be that they had been cast away in the storm since. So what did one of these old gossips do but run up to the Palace with this story, and say that there was a sailor down in such and such an old wife’s hut, who had seen the Princesses, and that they were coming home in a fortnight or in a week’s time. When the King heard that he sent a messenger down to the sailor to come up to him and tell the news himself.

“I don’t see how it’s to be”, said the sailor, “for I haven’t any clothes fit to stand in before the King.”

But the King said he must come; for the King must and would talk with him, whether he were richly or poorly clad, for there was no one else who could bring him any tidings of the Princesses. So he went up at last to the Palace and went in before the King, who asked him if it were true that he had seen anything of the Princesses.

“Aye, aye”, said the sailor, “I’ve seen them sure enough, but I don’t know whether they’re still alive, for when I last caught sight of them, the weather was so foul we in our ship were cast away; but if they’re still alive they’ll come safe home in a fortnight or perhaps before.”

When the King heard that he was almost beside himself for joy; and when the time came that the sailor had said they would come, the King drove down to the strand to meet them in a great state; and there was joy and gladness over the whole land, when the ship came sailing in with the Princes and Princesses and Ritter Red. But no one was gladder than the old King, who had got his daughters back again. The eleven eldest Princesses too, were glad and merry, but the youngest who was to have Ritter Red, who said that he had set them all free and slain the Troll, she wept and was always sorrowful. The King took this ill, and asked why she wasn’t cheerful and merry like the others; she hadn’t anything to be sorry for now when she had got out of the Troll’s clutches, and was to have such a husband as Ritter Red. But she daredn’t say anything, for Ritter Red had said he would take the life of any one who told the truth how things had gone.

But now one day, when they were hard at work sewing and stitching the bridal array, in came a man in a great sailor’s cloak with a pedlar’s pack on his back, and asked if the Princesses wouldn’t buy something fine of him for the wedding; he had so many wares and costly things, both gold and silver. Yes, they might do so perhaps, so they looked at his wares and they looked at him, for they thought they had seen both him and many of his costly things before.

“He who has so many fine things”, said the youngest Princess, “must surely have something still more precious, and which suits us better even than these.”

“Maybe I have”, said the Pedlar.

But now all the others cried “Hush”, and bade her bear in mind what Ritter Red had said he would do.

Well, some time after the Princesses sat and looked out of the window, and then the King’s son came again with the great sea-cloak thrown about him, and the press with the gold crowns at his back; and when he got into the palace hall he unlocked the press before the Princesses, and when each of them knew her own gold crown again, the youngest said:

“I think it only right that he who set us free should get the meed that is his due; and he is not Ritter Red, but this man who has brought us our gold crowns. He it is that set us free.”

Then the King’s son cast off the sailor’s cloak, and stood there far finer and grander than all the rest; and so the old King made them put Ritter Red to death. And now there was real right down joy in the palace; each took his own bride, and there just was a wedding! Why, it was heard of and talked about over twelve kings’ realms.

SORIA MORIA CASTLE

Once on a time there was a poor couple who had a son whose name was Halvor. Ever since he was a little boy he would turn his hand to nothing, but just sat there and groped about in the ashes. His father and mother often put him out to learn this trade or that, but Halvor could stay nowhere; for, when he had been there a day or two, he ran away from his master, and never stopped till he was sitting again in the ingle, poking about in the cinders.

Well, one day a skipper came, and asked Halvor if he hadn’t a mind to be with him, and go to sea, and see strange lands. Yes, Halvor would like that very much; so he wasn’t long in getting himself ready.

How long they sailed I’m sure I can’t tell; but the end of it was, they fell into a great storm, and when it was blown over, and it got still again, they couldn’t tell where they were; for they had been driven away to a strange coast, which none of them knew anything about.

Well, as there was just no wind at all, they stayed lying wind-bound there, and Halvor asked the skipper’s leave to go on shore and look about him; he would sooner go, he said, than lie there and sleep.

“Do you think now you’re fit to show yourself before folk”, said the skipper, “why, you’ve no clothes but those rags you stand in?”

But Halvor stuck to his own, and so at last he got leave, but he was to be sure and come back as soon as ever it began to blow. So off he went and found a lovely land; wherever he came there were fine large flat corn-fields and rich meads, but he couldn’t catch a glimpse of a living soul. Well, it began to blow, but Halvor thought he hadn’t seen enough yet, and he wanted to walk a little farther just to see if he couldn’t meet any folk. So after a while he came to a broad high road, so smooth and even, you might easily roll an egg along it. Halvor followed this, and when evening drew on he saw a great castle ever so far off, from which the sunbeams shone. So as he had now walked the whole day and hadn’t taken a bit to eat with him, he was as hungry as a hunter, but still the nearer he came to the castle, the more afraid he got. In the castle kitchen a great fire was blazing, and Halvor went into it, but such a kitchen he had never seen in all his born days. It was so grand and fine; there were vessels of silver and vessels of gold, but still never a living soul. So when Halvor had stood there a while and no one came out, he went and opened a door, and there inside sat a Princess who span upon a spinning-wheel.

“Nay, nay, now!” she called out, “dare Christian folk come hither? But now you’d best be off about your business, if you don’t want the Troll to gobble you up; for here lives a Troll with three heads.”

“All one to me”, said the lad, “I’d be just as glad to hear he had four heads beside; I’d like to see what kind of fellow he is. As for going, I won’t go at all. I’ve done no harm; but meat you must get me, for I’m almost starved to death.”

When Halvor had eaten his fill, the Princess told him to try if he could brandish the sword that hung against the wall; no, he couldn’t brandish it, he couldn’t even lift it up.

“Oh!” said the Princess, “now you must go and take a pull of that flask that hangs by its side; that’s what the Troll does every time he goes out to use the sword.”

So Halvor took a pull, and in the twinkling of an eye he could brandish the sword like nothing; and now he thought it high time the Troll came; and lo! just then up came the Troll puffing and blowing. Halvor jumped behind the door.

“HUTETU”, said the Troll, as he put his head in at the door, “what a smell of Christian man’s blood!”

“Aye”, said Halvor, “you’ll soon know that to your cost”, and with that he hewed off all his heads.

Now the Princess was so glad that she was free, she both danced and sang, but then all at once she called her sisters to mind, and so she said:

“Would my sisters were free too”

“Where are they?” asked Halvor.

Well, she told him all about it; one was taken away by a Troll to his Castle which lay fifty miles off, and the other by another Troll to his Castle which was fifty miles further still.

“But now”, she said, “you must first help me to get this ugly carcass out of the house.”

Yes, Halvor was so strong he swept everything away, and made it all clean and tidy in no time. So they had a good and happy time of it, and next morning he set off at peep of grey dawn; he could take no rest by the way, but ran and walked the whole day. When he first saw the Castle he got a little afraid; it was far grander than the first, but here too there wasn’t a living soul to be seen. So Halvor went into the kitchen, and didn’t stop there either, but went strait further on into the house.

“Nay, nay”, called out the Princess, “dare Christian folk come hither? I don’t know I’m sure how long it is since I came here, but in all that time I haven’t seen a Christian man. ’Twere best you saw how to get away as fast as you came; for here lives a Troll, who has six heads.”

“I shan’t go”, said Halvor, “if he has six heads besides.”

“He’ll take you up and swallow you down alive”, said the Princess.

But it was no good, Halvor wouldn’t go; he wasn’t at all afraid of the Troll, but meat and drink he must have, for he was half starved after his long journey. Well, he got as much of that as he wished, but then the Princess wanted him to be off again.

“No”, said Halvor, “I won’t go, I’ve done no harm, and I’ve nothing to be afraid about.”

“He won’t stay to ask that”, said the Princess, “for he’ll take you without law or leave; but as you won’t go, just try if you can brandish that sword yonder, which the Troll wields in war.”

He couldn’t brandish it, and then the Princess said he must take a pull at the flask which hung by its side, and when he had done that he could brandish it.

Just then back came the Troll, and he was both stout and big, so that he had to go sideways to get through the door. When the Troll got his first head in he called out “HUTETU, what a smell of Christian man’s blood!”

But that very moment Halvor hewed off his first head, and so on, all the rest as they popped in. The Princess was overjoyed, but just then she came to think of her sisters, and wished out loud they were free. Halvor thought that might easily be done, and wanted to be off at once; but first he had to help the Princess to get the Troll’s carcass out of the way, and so he could only set out next morning.

It was a long way to the Castle, and he had to walk fast and run hard to reach it in time; but about night-fall he saw the Castle, which was far finer and grander than either of the others. This time he wasn’t the least afraid, but walked straight through the kitchen, and into the Castle. There sat a Princess who was so pretty, there was no end to her loveliness. She too like the others told him there hadn’t been Christian folk there ever since she came thither, and bade him go away again, else the Troll would swallow him alive, and do you know, she said, he has nine heads.

“Aye, aye”, said Halvor, “if he had nine other heads, and nine other heads still, I won’t go away”, and so he stood fast before the stove. The Princess kept on begging him so prettily to go away, lest the Troll should gobble him up, but Halvor said:

“Let him come as soon as he likes.”

So she gave him the Troll’s sword, and bade him take a pull at the flask, that he might be able to brandish and wield it.

Just then back came the Troll puffing and blowing and tearing along. He was far stouter and bigger than the other two, and he too had to go on one side to get through the door. So when he got his first head in, he said as the others had said:

“HUTETU what a smell of Christian man’s blood!

That very moment Halvor hewed off the first head and then all the rest; but the last was the toughest of them all, and it was the hardest bit of work Halvor had to do, to get it hewn off, although he knew very well he had strength enough to do it.

So all the Princesses came together to that Castle, which was called _Soria Moria Castle_, and they were glad and happy as they had never been in all their lives before, and they all were fond of Halvor and Halvor of them, and he might choose the one he liked best for his bride; but the youngest was fondest of him of all the three.

But there after a while, Halvor went about, and was so strange and dull and silent. Then the Princesses asked him what he lacked, and if he didn’t like to live with them any longer? Yes, he did, for they had enough and to spare, and he was well off in every way, but still somehow or other he did so long to go home, for his father and mother were alive, and them he had such a great wish to see.

Well, they thought that might be done easily enough.

“You shall go thither and come back hither, safe and unscathed, if you will only follow our advice”, said the Princesses.

Yes, he’d be sure to mind all they said. So they dressed him up till he was as grand as a king’s son, and then they set a ring on his finger, and that was such a ring, he could wish himself thither and hither with it; but they told him to be sure not to take it off, and not to name their names, for there would be an end of all his bravery, and then he’d never see them more.

“If I only stood at home I’d be glad”, said Halvor; and it was done as he had wished. Then stood Halvor at his father’s cottage door before he knew a word about it. Now it was about dusk at even, and so, when they saw such a grand stately lord walk in, the old couple got so afraid they began to bow and scrape. Then Halvor asked if he couldn’t stay there, and have a lodging there that night. No; that he couldn’t.

“We can’t do it at all”, they said, “for we haven’t this thing or that thing which such a lord is used to have; ’twere best your lordship went up to the farm, no long way off, for you can see the chimneys, and there they have lots of everything.”

Halvor wouldn’t hear of it—he wanted to stop; but the old couple stuck to their own, that he had better go to the farmer’s; there he would get both meat and drink; as for them, they hadn’t even a chair to offer him to sit down on.

“No”, said Halvor, “I won’t go up there till to-morrow early, but let the just stay here to-night; worst come to the worst, I can sit in the chimney-corner.”

Well, they couldn’t say anything against that; so Halvor sat down by the ingle, and began to poke about in the ashes, just as he used to do when he lay at home in old days, and stretched his lazy bones.

Well, they chattered and talked about many things; and they told Halvor about this thing and that; and so he asked them if they had never had any children.

“Yes, yes, they had once a lad whose name was Halvor, but they didn’t know whither he had wandered; they couldn’t even tell whether he were dead or alive.”

“Couldn’t it be me, now?” said Halvor.

“Let me see; I could tell him well enough”, said the old wife, and rose up. “Our Halvor was so lazy and dull, he never did a thing; and besides, he was so ragged, that one tatter took hold of the next tatter on him. No; there never was the making of such a fine fellow in him as you are, master.”

A little while after the old wife went to the hearth to poke up the fire, and when the blaze fell on Halvor’s face, just as when he was at home of old poking about in the ashes, she knew him at once.

“Ah! but is it you after all, Halvor?” she cried; and then there was such joy for the old couple, there was no end to it; and he was forced to tell how he had fared, and the old dame was so fond and proud of him, nothing would do but he must go up at once to the farmer’s, and show himself to the lassies, who had always looked down on him. And off she went first, and Halvor followed after. So, when she got up there, she told them all how her Halvor had come home again, and now they should only just see how grand he was, for, said she, “he looks like nothing but a king’s son”.

“All very fine”, said the lassies, and tossed up their heads. “We’ll be bound he’s just the same beggarly ragged boy he always was.”

Just then in walked Halvor, and then the lassies were all so taken aback, they forgot their sarks in the ingle, where they were sitting darning their clothes, and ran out in their smocks. Well, when they were got back again, they were so shamefaced they scarce dared look at Halvor, towards whom they had always been proud and haughty.

“Aye, aye”, said Halvor, “you always thought yourselves so pretty and neat, no one could come near you; but now you should just see the eldest Princess I have set free; against her you look just like milkmaids, and the midmost is prettier still; but the youngest, who is my sweetheart, she’s fairer than both sun and moon. Would to Heaven she were only here”, said Halvor, “then you’d see what you would see.”

He had scarce uttered these words before there they stood, but then he felt so sorry, for now what they had said came into his mind. Up at the farm there was a great feast got ready for the Princesses, and much was made of them, but they wouldn’t stop there.

“No; we want to go down to your father and mother”, they said to Halvor; “and so we’ll go out now and look about us.”

So he went down with them, and they came to a great lake just outside the farm. Close by the water was such a lovely green bank; here the Princesses said they would sit and rest a while; they thought it so sweet to sit down and look over the water.

So they sat down there, and when they had sat a while, the youngest Princess said:

“I may as well comb your hair a little, Halvor.”

Yes, Halvor laid his head on her lap, and so she combed his bonny locks, and it wasn’t long before Halvor fell fast asleep. Then she took the ring from his finger, and put another in its stead; and so she said:

“Now hold me all together! and now would we were all in SORIA MORIA CASTLE.”

So when Halvor woke up, he could very well tell that he had lost the Princesses, and began to weep and wail; and he was so downcast, they couldn’t comfort him at all. In spite of all his father and mother said, he wouldn’t stop there, but took farewell of them, and said he was safe not to see them again; for if he couldn’t find the Princesses again, he thought it not worth while to live.

Well, he had still three hundred dollars left, so he put them into his pocket, and set out on his way. So, when he had walked a while, he met a man with a tidy horse, and he wanted to buy it, and began to chaffer with the man.

“Aye”, said the man, “to tell the truth, I never thought of selling him; but if we could strike a bargain, perhaps——”

“What do you want for him”, asked Halvor.

“I didn’t give much for him, nor is he worth much; he’s a brave horse to ride, but he can’t draw at all; still he’s strong enough to carry your knapsack and you too, turn and turn about”, said the man.

At last they agreed on the price, and Halvor laid the knapsack on him, and so he walked a bit, and rode a bit, turn and turn about. At night he came to a green plain where stood a great tree, at the roots of which he sat down. There he let the horse loose, but he didn’t lie down to sleep, but opened his knapsack and took a meal. At peep of day off he set again, for he could take no rest. So he rode and walked and walked and rode the whole day through the wide wood, where there were so many green spots and glades that shone so bright and lovely between the trees. He didn’t know at all where he was or whither he was going, but he gave himself no more time to rest than when his horse cropped a bit of grass, and he took a snack out of his knapsack when they came to one of those green glades. So he went on walking and riding by turns, and as for the wood there seemed to be no end to it.

But at dusk the next day he saw a light gleaming away through the trees.

“Would there were folk hereaway”, thought Halvor, “that I might warm myself a bit and get a morsel to keep body and soul together.”

When he got up to it, he saw the light came from a wretched little hut, and through the window he saw an old old couple inside. They were as grey-headed as a pair of doves, and the old wife had such a nose! why, it was so long she used it for a poker to stir the fire as she sat in the ingle.

“Good evening”, said Halvor.

“Good evening”, said the old wife.

“But what errand can you have in coming hither?” she went on, “for no Christian folk have been here these hundred years and more.”

Well, Halvor told her all about himself, and how he wanted to get to SORIA MORIA CASTLE, and asked if she knew the way thither.

“No”, said the old wife, “that I don’t, but see now, here comes the Moon, I’ll ask her, she’ll know all about it, for doesn’t she shine on everything?”

So when the Moon stood clear and bright over the tree-tops, the old wife went out.

“THOU MOON, THOU MOON”, she screamed, “canst thou tell me the way to SORIA MORIA CASTLE?”

“No”, said the Moon, “that I can’t, for the last time I shone there a cloud stood before me.”

“Wait a bit still”, said the old wife to Halvor, “by and bye comes the West Wind; he’s sure to know it, for he puffs and blows round every corner.”

“Nay, nay”, said the old wife when she went out again, “you don’t mean to say you’ve got a horse too; just turn the poor beastie loose in our ‘toun’, and don’t let him stand there and starve to death at the door.”

Then she ran on:

“But won’t you swop him away to me?—we’ve got an old pair of boots here, with which you can take twenty miles at each stride; those you shall have for your horse, and so you’ll get all the sooner to SORIA MORIA CASTLE.”

That Halvor was willing to do at once; and the old wife was so glad at having the horse, she was ready to dance and skip for joy.

“For now”, she said, “I shall be able to ride to church. I too, think of that.”

As for Halvor, he had no rest, and wanted to be off at once, but the old wife said there was no hurry.

“Lie down on the bench with you and sleep a bit, for we’ve no bed to offer you, and I’ll watch and wake you when the West Wind comes.”

So after a while up came the West Wind, roaring and howling along till the walls creaked and groaned again.

Out ran the old wife.

“THOU WEST WIND, THOU WEST WIND! Canst thou tell me the way to SORIA MORIA CASTLE? Here’s one who wants to get thither.”

“Yes, I know it very well”, said the West Wind, and now I’m just off thither to dry clothes for the wedding that’s to be; if he’s swift of foot he can go along with me.”

Out ran Halvor.

“You’ll have to stretch your legs if you mean to keep up”, said the West Wind.

So off he set over field and hedge, and hill and fell, and Halvor had hard work to keep up.

“Well”, said the West Wind, “now I’ve no time to stay with you any longer, for I’ve got to go away yonder and tear down a strip of spruce wood first before I go to the bleaching-ground to dry the clothes; but if you go alongside the hill you’ll come to a lot of lassies standing washing clothes, and then you’ve not far to go to SORIA MORIA CASTLE.”

In a little while Halvor came upon the lassies who stood washing, and they asked if he had seen anything of the West Wind who was to come and dry the clothes for the wedding. “Aye, aye, that I have”, said Halvor, “he’s only gone to tear down a strip of spruce wood. It’ll not be long before he’s here”, and then he asked them the way to SORIA MORIA CASTLE.

So they put him into the right way, and when he got to the Castle it was full of folk and horses; so full it made one giddy to look at them. But Halvor was so ragged and torn from having followed the West Wind through bush and brier and bog, that he kept on one side, and wouldn’t show himself till the last day when the bridal feast was to be.

So when all, as was then right and fitting, were to drink the bride and bridegroom’s health and wish them luck, and when the cupbearer was to drink to them all again, both knights and squires, last of all he came in turn to Halvor. He drank their health, but let the ring which the Princess had put upon his finger as he lay by the lake fall into the glass, and bade the cupbearer go and greet the bride and hand her the glass.

Then up rose the Princess from the board at once.

“Who is most worthy to have one of us”, she said, “he that has set us free, or he that here sits by me as bridegroom?”

Well they all said there could be but one voice and will as to that, and when Halvor heard that he wasn’t long in throwing off his beggar’s rags, and arraying himself as bridegroom.

“Aye, aye, here is the right one after all”, said the youngest Princess as soon as she saw him, and so she tossed the other one out of the window, and held her wedding with Halvor.

BRUIN AND REYNARD

The Bear and the Fox had once bought a firkin of butter together; they were to have it at Yule and hid it till then under a thick spruce bush.

After that they went a little way off and lay down on a sunny bank to sleep. So when they had lain a while the Fox got up, shook himself, and bawled out “yes”.

Then he ran off straight to the firkin and ate a good third part of it. But when he came back, and the Bear asked him where he had been, since he was so fat about the paunch, he said:

“Don’t you believe then that I was bidden to barsel, to a christening feast.”

“So, so”, said the Bear, “and pray what was the bairn’s name.”

“Just-begun”, said the Fox.

So they lay down to sleep again. In a little while up jumped the Fox again, bawled out “yes”, and ran off to the firkin.

This time too he ate a good lump. When he came back, and the Bear asked him again where he had been, he said:

“Oh, wasn’t I bidden to barsel again, don’t you think.”

“And pray what was the bairn’s name this time”, asked the Bear.

“Half-eaten”, said the Fox.

The Bear thought that a very queer name, but he hadn’t wondered long over it before he began to yawn and gape and fell asleep. Well, he hadn’t lain long before the Fox jumped up as he had done twice before, bawled out “yes” and ran off to the firkin, which this time he cleared right out. When he got back he had been bidden to barsel again, and when the Bear wanted to know the bairn’s name, he answered:

“Licked-to-the-bottom.”

After that they lay down again, and slept a long time; but then they were to go to the firkin to look at the butter, and when they found it eaten up, the Bear threw the blame on the Fox, and the Fox on the Bear; and each said the one had been at the firkin while the other slept.

“Well, well”, said Reynard, “we’ll soon find this out, which of us has eaten the butter. We’ll just lay down in the sunshine, and he whose cheeks and chaps are greasiest when we wake, he is the thief.”

Yes, that trial Bruin was ready to stand; and as he knew in his heart he had never so much as tasted the butter, he lay down without a care to sleep in the sun.

Then Reynard stole off to the firkin for a morsel of butter, which stuck there in a crack, and then he crept back to the Bear, and greased his chaps and cheeks with it; and then he, too, lay down to sleep as if nothing had happened.

So when they both woke, the sun had melted the butter, and the Bear’s whiskers were all greasy; and so it was Bruin after all, and no one else, who had eaten the butter.

TOM TOTHERHOUSE

Once on a time there was a Goody who had a deaf husband. A good, easy man he was, but that was just why she thought more of the lad next door, whom they called “Tom Totherhouse”. Now the lad that served the deaf man saw very well that the two had something between them, and one day he said to the Goody:

“Dare you wager ten dollars, mother, that I don’t make you lay bare your own shame?”

“Yes I dare”, said she; and so they wagered ten dollars. So one day, while the lad and the deaf man stood thrashing in the barn, the lad saw that Tom Totherhouse came to see the Goody. He said nothing, but a good while before dinnertime he turned toward the barn-door, and bawled out “Halloa!”

“What! are we to go home already?” said the man, who hadn’t given any heed to what the lad did.

“Yes, we must, since mother calls”, said the lad.

So when they got into the passage, the lad began to hem and cough, that the Goody might get Tom Totherhouse out of the way. But when they came into the room, there stood a whole bowl of custards on the table.

“Nay, nay, mother”, cried out the man; “shall we have custards to-day?”

“Yes, that you shall, dear”, said the Goody; but she was as sour as verjuice, and as cross as two sticks.

So when they had eaten and drank all the good cheer up, off they went again to their work, and the Goody said to Tom:

“Deil take that lad’s sharp nose, this was all his fault; but now you must be off as fast as you can, and I’ll come down to you in the mead with a snack between meals.”

This the lad stood outside in the passage and listened to.

“Do you know, father”, he said, “I think we’d best go down into the hollow and put our fence to rights, which is blown down, before the neighbours’ swine get in and root up our meadow.”

“Aye, aye, let’s go and do it”, said the man; for he did all he was told, good, easy man.

So when the afternoon was half spent, down came the Goody sneaking along into the mead, with something under her apron.

“Nay, nay, mother”, said the man, “it can’t be you any longer; are we to have a snack between meals too?”

“Yes, yes, that you shall”, she said; but she was sourer and wilder than ever.

So they made merry, and crammed themselves with bannocks and butter, and had a drop of brandy into the bargain.

“I’ll go off to Tom Totherhouse with a snack—shan’t I, mother?” said the lad. “He’s had nothing between meals, I’ll be bound.”

“Ah! do; there’s a good fellow”, said the Goody, who all at once got as mild as milk.

As he went along the lad broke a bannock to bits, and dropped the crumbs here and there as he walked. But when he got to Tom Totherhouse he said:

“Now, just you take care, for our old cock has found out that you come too often to see our Goody. He won’t stand it any longer, and has sworn to drive his axe into you as soon as ever he can set eyes on you.”

As for Tom, he was so frightened he scarce knew which way to turn, and the lad went back again to his master.

“There’s something wrong”, he said, “with Tom’s plough, and he begs you to be so good as to take your axe, and go and see if you can’t set it right.”

Yes, the man set off with his axe, but Tom Totherhouse had scarce caught sight of him before he took to his heels as fast as he could. The man turned and twisted the plough round and round, and looked at it on every side, and when he couldn’t see anything wrong with it he went off home again; but on the way he picked up the bits of broken bannock which the lad had let fall. His old dame stood in the meadow and looked at him as he did this for a while, and wondered and wondered what it could be her husband was gathering up.

“Oh, I know”, said the lad, “master’s picking up stones, I’ll be bound; for he has marked how often this Tom Totherhouse runs over here; and the old fellow won’t stand it any longer; and now he has sworn to stone mother to death.”

Off went the Goody as fast as her legs could carry her.

“What in the world is it that mother is running after now?” asked the man, when he reached the spot where she had stood.

“Oh”, said the lad, “maybe the house at home is on fire!”

So there ran the husband behind and the Goody before; and as she ran she screeched out:

“Ah! ah! don’t stone me to death; don’t stone me to death! and I’ll give you my word never to let Tom Totherhouse come near me again.”

“Now the ten dollars are mine”, bawled out the lad; and so they were.

LITTLE ANNIE THE GOOSE-GIRL

Once on a time there was a King who had so many geese he was forced to have a lassie to tend them and watch them; her name was Annie, and so they called her “Annie the Goose-girl”. Now you must know there was a King’s son from England who went out to woo; and as he came along Ann sat herself down in his way.

“Sitting all alone there, you little Annie?” said the King’s son.

“Yes”, said little Annie, “here I sit and put stitch to stitch and patch on patch. I’m waiting to-day for the King’s son from England.”

“Him you mustn’t look to have”, said the Prince.

“Nay, but if I’m to have him”, said little Annie, “have him I shall, after all.”

And now limners were sent out into all lands and realms to take the likenesses of the fairest Princesses, and the Prince was to chose between them. So he thought so much of one of them, that he set out to seek her, and wanted to wed her, and he was glad and happy when he got her for his sweetheart.

But now I must tell you this Prince had a stone with him which he laid by his bedside, and that stone knew everything, and when the Princess came little Annie told her, if so be she’d had a sweetheart before, or didn’t feel herself quite free from anything which she didn’t wish the Prince to know, she’d better not step on that stone which lay by the bedside.

“If you do, it will tell him all about you”, said little Annie.

So when the Princess heard that she was dreadfully downcast, and she fell upon the thought to ask Annie if she would get into bed that night in her stead and lie down by the Prince’s side; and then when he was sound asleep, Annie should get out and the Princess should get in, and so when he woke up in the morning he would find the right bride by his side.

So they did that, and when Annie the goose-girl came and stepped upon the stone the Prince asked:

“Who is this that steps into my bed?”

“A maid pure and bright”, said the stone, and so they lay down to sleep; but when the night wore on the Princess came and lay down in Annie’s stead.

But next morning, when they were to get up, the Prince asked the stone again:

“Who is this that steps out of my bed?”

“One that has had three bairns”, said the stone. When the Prince heard that he wouldn’t have her, you may know very well; and so he packed her off home again, and took another sweetheart.

But as he went to see her, little Annie went and sat down in his way again.

“Sitting all alone there, little Annie, the goose-girl”, said the Prince.

“Yes, here I sit, and put stitch to stitch, and patch on patch; for I’m waiting to-day for the king’s son from England”, said Annie.

“Oh! you mustn’t look to have him”, said the king’s son.

“Nay, but if I’m to have him, have him I shall, after all”; that was what Annie thought.

Well, it was the same story over again with the Prince; only this time, when his bride got up in the morning, the stone said she’d had six bairns.

So the Prince wouldn’t have her either, but sent her about her business; but still he thought he’d try once more if he couldn’t find one who was pure and spotless; and he sought far and wide in many lands, till at last he found one he thought he might trust. But when he went to see her, little Annie the goose-girl had put herself in his way again.

“Sitting all alone there, you little Annie, the goose-girl”, said the Prince.

“Yes, here I sit, and put stitch to stitch, and patch on patch; for I’m waiting to-day for the king’s son from England”, said Annie.

“Him you mustn’t look to have”, said the Prince.

“Nay, but if I’m to have him, have him I shall, after all”, said little Annie.

So when the Princess came, little Annie the goose-girl told her the same as she had told the other two, if she’d had any sweetheart before, or if there was anything else she didn’t wish the Prince to know, she mustn’t tread on the stone that the Prince had put at his bedside; for, said she:

“It tells him everything.”

The Princess got very red and downcast when she heard that, for she was just as naughty as the others, and asked Annie if she would go in her stead and lie down with the Prince that night; and when he was sound asleep, she would come and take her place, and then he would have the right bride by his side when it was light next morning.

Yes! they did that. And when little Annie the goose-girl came and stepped upon the stone, the Prince asked:

“Who is this that steps into my bed.”

“A maid pure and bright”, said the stone; and so they lay down to rest.

Farther on in the night the Prince put a ring on Annie’s finger, and it fitted so tight she couldn’t get it off again; for the Prince saw well enough there was something wrong, and so he wished to have a mark by which he might know the right woman again.

Well, when the Prince had gone off to sleep, the Princess came and drove Annie away to the pigsty, and lay down in her place. Next morning, when they were to get up, the Prince asked:

“Who is this that steps out of my bed?”

“One that’s had nine bairns”, said the stone.

When the Prince heard that he drove her away at once, for he was in an awful rage; and then he asked the stone how it all was with these Princesses who had stepped on it, for he couldn’t understand it at all, he said.

So the stone told him how they had cheated him, and sent little Annie the goose-girl to him in their stead.

But as the Prince wished to have no mistake about it, he went down to her where she sat tending her geese, for he wanted to see if she had the ring too, and he thought, “if she has it, ’twere best to take her at once for my queen”.

So when he got down he saw in a moment that she had tied a bit of rag round one of her fingers, and so he asked her why it was tied up.

“Oh! I’ve cut myself so badly”, said little Annie the goose-girl.

So he must and would see the finger, but Annie wouldn’t take the rag off. Then he caught hold of the finger; but Annie, she tried to pull it from him, and so between them the rag came off, and then he knew his ring.

So he took her up to the palace, and gave her much fine clothes and attire, and after that they held their wedding feast; and so little Annie the goose-girl came to have the king of England’s son for her husband after all, just because it was written that she should have him.

INTRODUCTION TO APPENDIX

ANANZI STORIES

The Negroes in the West Indies still retain the tales and traditions which their fathers and grandfathers brought with them from Africa. Some thirty years back these “Ananzi Stories”, as they are called, were invariably told at the Negro wakes, which lasted for nine successive nights. The reciters were always men. In those days when the slaves were still half heathen, and when the awful _Obeah_ was universally believed in, such of the Negroes as attended church or chapel kept their children away from these funeral gatherings. The wakes are now, it is believed, almost entirely discontinued, and with them have gone the stories. The Negroes are very shy of telling them, and both the clergyman of the Church of England, and the Dissenting Minister set their faces against them, and call them foolishness. The translator, whose early childhood was passed in those islands, remembers to have heard such stories from his nurse, who was an African born; but beyond a stray fragment here and there, the rich store which she possessed has altogether escaped his memory. The following stories have been taken down from the mouth of a West Indian nurse in his sister’s house, who, born and bred in it, is rather regarded as a member of the family than as a servant. They are printed just as she told them, and both their genuineness and their affinity with the stories of other races will be self-evident. Thus we have the “Wishing Tree” of the Hindoos, the _Kalpa Vriksha_ of Somadeva, and of the German Fairy Tales in the “Pumpkin Tree”, which throws down as many pumpkins as the poor widow wishes. In one story we have “Boots” to the life, while the man whom he outwits is own brother to the Norse Trolls. In another we find a “speaking beast”, which reminds us at once of the Egyptian story of Anessou and Satou, as well as of the “Machandelboom”, and “the Milk-white Doo”. We find here the woman who washes the dirty head rewarded, and the man who refuses to wash it punished, in the very words used in “The Bushy Bride”. We find, too, in “Nancy Fairy”, the same story, both in groundwork and incident, as we have in “the Lassie and her Godmother”; and most surprising of all, in the story of “Ananzi and Quanqua”, we find the very trait about a trick played with the tail of an ox, which is met with in a variation to “Boots who ate a match with the Troll”. Here is the variation: “Whilst he was with the Troll, the lad was to go out to watch the swine, so he drove them home to his father’s house, but first he cut their tails off, and stuck them into the ground. Then he went home to the Troll, and begged him to come and see how his swine were going down to Hell. But when the Troll saw the swine’s tails sticking out of the ground he wanted to pull them back again, so he caught hold of them and gave a great tug, and then down he fell with his heels up in the air, and the tails in his fist.”