translated and/or edited by
D. L. Ashliman
© 2007-2008
folktales of Aarne-Thompson-Uther type 720
translated and/or edited by
D. L. Ashliman
© 2007-2008
Long ago, at least two thousand years, there was a rich man who had a beautiful and pious wife, and they loved each other dearly. However, they had no children, though they wished very much to have some, and the woman prayed for them day and night, but they didn't get any, and they didn't get any.
In front of their house there was a courtyard where there stood a juniper tree. One day in winter the woman was standing beneath it, peeling herself an apple, and while she was thus peeling the apple, she cut her finger, and the blood fell into the snow.
"Oh," said the woman. She sighed heavily, looked at the blood before her, and was most unhappy. "If only I had a child as red as blood and as white as snow." And as she said that, she became quite contented, and felt sure that it was going to happen.
Then she went into the house, and a month went by, and the snow was gone. And two months, and everything was green. And three months, and all the flowers came out of the earth. And four months, and all the trees in the woods grew thicker, and the green branches were all entwined in one another, and the birds sang until the woods resounded and the blossoms fell from the trees. Then the fifth month passed, and she stood beneath the juniper tree, which smelled so sweet that her heart jumped for joy, and she fell on her knees and was beside herself. And when the sixth month was over, the fruit was thick and large, and then she was quite still. And after the seventh month she picked the juniper berries and ate them greedily. Then she grew sick and sorrowful. Then the eighth month passed, and she called her husband to her, and cried, and said, "If I die, then bury me beneath the juniper tree." Then she was quite comforted and happy until the next month was over, and then she had a child as white as snow and as red as blood, and when she saw it, she was so happy that she died.
Her husband buried her beneath the juniper tree, and he began to cry bitterly. After some time he was more at ease, and although he still cried, he could bear it. And some time later he took another wife.
He had a daughter by the second wife, but the first wife's child was a little son, and he was as red as blood and as white as snow. When the woman looked at her daughter, she loved her very much, but then she looked at the little boy, and it pierced her heart, for she thought that he would always stand in her way, and she was always thinking how she could get the entire inheritance for her daughter. And the Evil One filled her mind with this until she grew very angry with the little boy, and she pushed him from one corner to the other and slapped him here and cuffed him there, until the poor child was always afraid, for when he came home from school there was nowhere he could find any peace.
One day the woman had gone upstairs to her room, when her little daughter came up too, and said, "Mother, give me an apple."
"Yes, my child," said the woman, and gave her a beautiful apple out of the chest. The chest had a large heavy lid with a large sharp iron lock.
"Mother," said the little daughter, "is brother not to have one too?"
This made the woman angry, but she said, "Yes, when he comes home from school."
When from the window she saw him coming, it was as though the Evil One came over her, and she grabbed the apple and took it away from her daughter, saying, "You shall not have one before your brother."
She threw the apple into the chest, and shut it. Then the little boy came in the door, and the Evil One made her say to him kindly, "My son, do you want an apple?" And she looked at him fiercely.
"Mother," said the little boy, "how angry you look. Yes, give me an apple."
Then it seemed to her as if she had to persuade him. "Come with me," she said, opening the lid of the chest. "Take out an apple for yourself." And while the little boy was leaning over, the Evil One prompted her, and crash! she slammed down the lid, and his head flew off, falling among the red apples.
Then fear overcame her, and she thought, "Maybe I can get out of this." So she went upstairs to her room to her chest of drawers, and took a white scarf out of the top drawer, and set the head on the neck again, tying the scarf around it so that nothing could be seen. Then she set him on a chair in front of the door and put the apple in his hand.
After this Marlene came into the kitchen to her mother, who was standing by the fire with a pot of hot water before her which she was stirring around and around.
"Mother," said Marlene, "brother is sitting at the door, and he looks totally white and has an apple in his hand. I asked him to give me the apple, but he did not answer me, and I was very frightened."
"Go back to him," said her mother, "and if he will not answer you, then box his ears."
So Marlene went to him and said, "Brother, give me the apple." But he was silent, so she gave him one on the ear, and his head fell off. Marlene was terrified, and began crying and screaming, and ran to her mother, and said, "Oh, mother, I have knocked my brother's head off," and she cried and cried and could not be comforted.
"Marlene," said the mother, "what have you done? Be quiet and don't let anyone know about it. It cannot be helped now. We will cook him into stew."
Then the mother took the little boy and chopped him in pieces, put him into the pot, and cooked him into stew. But Marlene stood by crying and crying, and all her tears fell into the pot, and they did not need any salt.
Then the father came home, and sat down at the table and said, "Where is my son?" And the mother served up a large, large dish of stew, and Marlene cried and could not stop.
Then the father said again, "Where is my son?"
"Oh," said the mother, "he has gone across the country to his mother's great uncle. He will stay there awhile."
"What is he doing there? He did not even say good-bye to me."
"Oh, he wanted to go, and asked me if he could stay six weeks. He will be well taken care of there."
"Oh," said the man, "I am unhappy. It isn't right. He should have said good-bye to me." With that he began to eat, saying, "Marlene, why are you crying? Your brother will certainly come back."
Then he said, "Wife, this food is delicious. Give me some more." And the more he ate the more he wanted, and he said, "Give me some more. You two shall have none of it. It seems to me as if it were all mine." And he ate and ate, throwing all the bones under the table, until he had finished it all.
Marlene went to her chest of drawers, took her best silk scarf from the bottom drawer, and gathered all the bones from beneath the table and tied them up in her silk scarf, then carried them outside the door, crying tears of blood.
She laid them down beneath the juniper tree on the green grass, and after she had put them there, she suddenly felt better and did not cry anymore.
Then the juniper tree began to move. The branches moved apart, then moved together again, just as if someone were rejoicing and clapping his hands. At the same time a mist seemed to rise from the tree, and in the center of this mist it burned like a fire, and a beautiful bird flew out of the fire singing magnificently, and it flew high into the air, and when it was gone, the juniper tree was just as it had been before, and the cloth with the bones was no longer there. Marlene, however, was as happy and contented as if her brother were still alive. And she went merrily into the house, sat down at the table, and ate.
Then the bird flew away and lit on a goldsmith's house, and began to sing:
My mother, she killed me,
My father, he ate me,
My sister Marlene,
Gathered all my bones,
Tied them in a silken scarf,
Laid them beneath the juniper tree,
Tweet, tweet, what a beautiful bird am I.
The goldsmith was sitting in his workshop making a golden chain, when he heard the bird sitting on his roof and singing. The song seemed very beautiful to him. He stood up, but as he crossed the threshold he lost one of his slippers. However, he went right up the middle of the street with only one slipper and one sock on. He had his leather apron on, and in one hand he had a golden chain and in the other his tongs. The sun was shining brightly on the street.
He walked onward, then stood still and said to the bird, "Bird," he said, "how beautifully you can sing. Sing that piece again for me."
"No," said the bird, "I do not sing twice for nothing. Give me the golden chain, and then I will sing it again for you."
The goldsmith said, "Here is the golden chain for you. Now sing that song again for me." Then the bird came and took the golden chain in his right claw, and went and sat in front of the goldsmith, and sang:
My mother, she killed me,
My father, he ate me,
My sister Marlene,
Gathered all my bones,
Tied them in a silken scarf,
Laid them beneath the juniper tree,
Tweet, tweet, what a beautiful bird am I.
Then the bird flew away to a shoemaker, and lit on his roof and sang:
My mother, she killed me,
My father, he ate me,
My sister Marlene,
Gathered all my bones,
Tied them in a silken scarf,
Laid them beneath the juniper tree,
Tweet, tweet, what a beautiful bird am I.
Hearing this, the shoemaker ran out of doors in his shirtsleeves, and looked up at his roof, and had to hold his hand in front of his eyes to keep the sun from blinding him. "Bird," said he, "how beautifully you can sing."
Then he called in at his door, "Wife, come outside. There is a bird here. Look at this bird. He certainly can sing." Then he called his daughter and her children, and the journeyman, and the apprentice, and the maid, and they all came out into the street and looked at the bird and saw how beautiful he was, and what fine red and green feathers he had, and how his neck was like pure gold, and how his eyes shone like stars in his head.
"Bird," said the shoemaker, "now sing that song again for me."
"No," said the bird, "I do not sing twice for nothing. You must give me something."
"Wife," said the man, "go into the shop. There is a pair of red shoes on the top shelf. Bring them down." Then the wife went and brought the shoes.
"There, bird," said the man, "now sing that piece again for me." Then the bird came and took the shoes in his left claw, and flew back to the roof, and sang:
My mother, she killed me,
My father, he ate me,
My sister Marlene,
Gathered all my bones,
Tied them in a silken scarf,
Laid them beneath the juniper tree,
Tweet, tweet, what a beautiful bird am I.
When he had finished his song he flew away. In his right claw he had the chain and in his left one the shoes. He flew far away to a mill, and the mill went clickety-clack, clickety-clack, clickety-clack. In the mill sat twenty miller's apprentices cutting a stone, and chiseling chip-chop, chip-chop, chip-chop. And the mill went clickety-clack, clickety-clack, clickety-clack.
Then the bird went and sat on a linden tree which stood in front of the mill, and sang:
My mother, she killed me,
Then one of them stopped working.
My father, he ate me,
Then two more stopped working and listened,
My sister Marlene,
Then four more stopped,
Gathered all my bones,
Tied them in a silken scarf,
Now only eight only were chiseling,
Laid them beneath
Now only five,
the juniper tree,
Now only one,
Tweet, tweet, what a beautiful bird am I.
Then the last one stopped also, and heard the last words. "Bird," said he, "how beautifully you sing. Let me hear that too. Sing it once more for me."
"No," said the bird, "I do not sing twice for nothing. Give me the millstone, and then I will sing it again."
"Yes," he said, "if it belonged only to me, you should have it."
"Yes," said the others, "if he sings again he can have it."
Then the bird came down, and the twenty millers took a beam and lifted the stone up. Yo-heave-ho! Yo-heave-ho! Yo-heave-ho!
The bird stuck his neck through the hole and put the stone on as if it were a collar, then flew to the tree again, and sang:
My mother, she killed me,
My father, he ate me,
My sister Marlene,
Gathered all my bones,
Tied them in a silken scarf,
Laid them beneath the juniper tree,
Tweet, tweet, what a beautiful bird am I.
When he was finished singing, he spread his wings, and in his right claw he had the chain, and in his left one the shoes, and around his neck the millstone. He flew far away to his father's house.
In the room the father, the mother, and Marlene were sitting at the table.
The father said, "I feel so contented. I am so happy."
"Not I," said the mother, "I feel uneasy, just as if a bad storm were coming."
But Marlene just sat and cried and cried.
Then the bird flew up, and as it seated itself on the roof, the father said, "Oh, I feel so truly happy, and the sun is shining so beautifully outside. I feel as if I were about to see some old acquaintance again."
"Not I," said the woman, "I am so afraid that my teeth are chattering, and I feel like I have fire in my veins." And she tore open her bodice even more. Marlene sat in a corner crying. She held a handkerchief before her eyes and cried until it was wet clear through.
Then the bird seated itself on the juniper tree, and sang:
My mother, she killed me,
The mother stopped her ears and shut her eyes, not wanting to see or hear, but there was a roaring in her ears like the fiercest storm, and her eyes burned and flashed like lightning.
My father, he ate me,
"Oh, mother," said the man, "that is a beautiful bird. He is singing so splendidly, and the sun is shining so warmly, and it smells like pure cinnamon."
My sister Marlene,
Then Marlene laid her head on her knees and cried and cried, but the man said, "I am going out. I must see the bird up close."
"Oh, don't go," said the woman, "I feel as if the whole house were shaking and on fire."
But the man went out and looked at the bird.
Gathered all my bones,
Tied them in a silken scarf,
Laid them beneath the juniper tree,
Tweet, tweet, what a beautiful bird am I.
With this the bird dropped the golden chain, and it fell right around the man's neck, so exactly around it that it fit beautifully. Then the man went in and said, "Just look what a beautiful bird that is, and what a beautiful golden chain he has given me, and how nice it looks."
But the woman was terrified. She fell down on the floor in the room, and her cap fell off her head. Then the bird sang once more:
My mother killed me.
"I wish I were a thousand fathoms beneath the earth, so I would not have to hear that!"
My father, he ate me,
Then the woman fell down as if she were dead.
My sister Marlene,
"Oh," said Marlene, "I too will go out and see if the bird will give me something." Then she went out.
Gathered all my bones,
Tied them in a silken scarf,
He threw the shoes down to her.
Laid them beneath the juniper tree,
Tweet, tweet, what a beautiful bird am I.
Then she was contented and happy. She put on the new red shoes and danced and leaped into the house. "Oh," she said, "I was so sad when I went out and now I am so contented. That is a splendid bird, he has given me a pair of red shoes."
"No," said the woman, jumping to her feet and with her hair standing up like flames of fire, "I feel as if the world were coming to an end. I too, will go out and see if it makes me feel better."
And as she went out the door, crash! the bird threw the millstone on her head, and it crushed her to death.
The father and Marlene heard it and went out. Smoke, flames, and fire were rising from the place, and when that was over, the little brother was standing there, and he took his father and Marlene by the hand, and all three were very happy, and they went into the house, sat down at the table, and ate.
There once lived near a thick forest a woodcutter who had a wicked wife and two good children. Now the woodcutter was very poor and had scarcely enough bread to still his own hunger and that of his family. One day the father had again gone into the woods, and the wicked mother was alone in their small hut.
The wicked mother said to the children, "Go into the forest and collect some wood. The first one of you to return home will get a very beautiful apple."
The girl and the boy went out into the forest to collect wood and hurriedly gathered up two bundles of twigs. Having tied up the bundles, they quickly turned their steps toward home. But as they approached their hut the more uneasy they grew. It was as though they had stones on their hearts.
As they were walking along, the boy's shoulder strap broke, and he asked his sister, "Wait for me. My shoulder strap broke, and I have to tie it together."
But the girl thought about the beautiful apple that their mother had promised, and she hurried onward. She had gone only a little way when her shoulder strap broke as well. Her brother caught up with her, panting under his heavy burden of wood.
The girl now asked him, "Wait for me. My shoulder strap broke, and I have to tie it together."
But the boy had no ears for his sister's request, and he replied, "You didn't wait for me. Now I'm going to get the apple."
The boy ran and ran, finally arriving at home. Throwing his bundle of wood into the empty kitchen, he asked his mother for the promised apple.
"Go upstairs to the storeroom. The apples are there in the chest. You can get three of them," said the mother.
They boy was not happy with this answer and told his mother that he wanted her to fetch the apples, as she did other times.
The mother finally gave in to the boy's wishes, and they went together to the storeroom and to the chest where the apples were. The boy was overjoyed at the sight of the apples. He clapped his hands, then leaned over into the chest to get his apples. While he was happily looking at them, his mother suddenly slammed the lid shut. The poor boy's head rolled into the chest, and his body lay there on the floor motionless and lifeless. The wicked mother took the corpse and hung it on a nail behind the storeroom door.
In the meantime the girl, who had fixed her broken shoulder strap, arrived with her bundle of wood. She unloaded it in the kitchen and asked her mother for an apple. The mother was very friendly, beckoned her nearer, and gave her a red apple.
The girl bit into the apple, and the mother went to the hearth to fix a noon meal for the father, who was chopping wood in the forest.
"Go upstairs to the storeroom and fetch me some flour and lard," said the mother to the girl. "But do not look behind the door."
The poor little sister went upstairs to the storeroom, and she did look behind the door, and she saw her poor dead brother hanging there. The girl cried so bitterly that a stone would have felt sorry for her. Tears dripped to the floor. Finally she had to go downstairs to her mother, and crying, she brought her the flour and lard she had asked for.
"Did you look behind the door?" the wicked mother asked the crying girl.
"Oh no," replied the poor child, crying even harder and holding her worn-out blue apron in front of her face.
The mother was satisfied with her answer and sent the sobbing girl out into the dark woods with the father's noon meal.
Today the girl took no pleasure in the squirrels that were climbing about in the fir trees, nor in the pinecones and wildflowers, but instead went her way quietly crying. She finally came to her father, who quickly reached for the soup, for he was hungry. He was very surprised to see meat in his soup today, because for a long time he had not even seen a little piece of meat, much less had one in his mouth.
He sat down beneath a large, beautiful beech tree and began to eat. He took the first piece of meat onto his bone spoon and was about to put it into his mouth when a little bird flew to the tree and began to sing:
Tweet, tweet, my mother is a worthless woman,
My mother cut off my head,
My sister carried me out,
My father gnawed my bones clean,
Tweet, tweet, my mother is a worthless woman.
The woodcutter found this very strange, and the little bird gave him no peace, singing over and over again:
Tweet, tweet, my mother is a worthless woman,
My mother cut off my head,
My sister carried me out,
My father gnawed my bones clean,
Tweet, tweet, my mother is a worthless woman.
The father felt more and more ill at ease, until even the rustling of the leaves frightened him. Then he went home with the poor girl, who was very sad and spoke not a word.
Meanwhile the wicked mother had busied herself packing away and hiding the dead boy. However, many, many little birds flattered around her, leaving her no peace and singing in a very sorrowful tone:
Tweet, tweet, my mother is a worthless woman,
My mother cut off my head,
My sister carried me out,
My father gnawed my bones clean,
Tweet, tweet, my mother is a worthless woman.
She wanted to drive away the innocent little creatures, but as she was shooing them away and chasing after them, the heavy storeroom door fell shut and cut off the wicked mother's head.
The father arrived at home, and inside everything was quiet and still. Only the birds were singing:
Tweet, tweet, my mother is a worthless woman,
My mother cut off my head,
My sister carried me out,
My father gnawed my bones clean,
Tweet, tweet, my mother is a worthless woman.
The father went upstairs into the storeroom, and opening the door he found his wicked wife and his poor little son, both lying dead on the floor.
And the story is done,
So you must go home!
Or should I tell you another
About peas and fodder?
Availing herself of the girl's absence, the mother killed the poor little boy and hid him in a pot of stewed cabbage. By the time that the girl returned, her dear little brother was half stewed. When the mess was quite done, the woman poured it into a smaller pot, placed the small pot into a sling, and sent the food by her daughter to her husband who was in the field.
The man liked the dish very much, and asked the girl, "What kind of meat is this? It is very nice."
"I believe, dear father, mother had to kill a small lamb last night, and no doubt she cooked it for you," replied the girl.
But somehow or other the girl learned the true state of things, and the news nearly broke her heart. She immediately went back to the field, gathered up the bones of her little brother, carefully wrapped them into a beautiful piece of new white linen and took them into the nearest forest, where she hid them in a hollow tree.
Nobody can foretell what will happen, and so it came to pass that the bones did not remain very long in the hollow of the tree. Next spring a crow came and hatched them, and they became exactly such a boy as they were before.
The boy would sometimes perch on the edge of the hollow, and sing to a beautiful tune the following words:
My mother killed me,Upon one occasion, just as he was singing this song, a man with a cloak strolled by. "Go on, my son," he said, "repeat that pretty song for me! I live in a big village, and have traveled a good deal in my lifetime, but I have never heard such a pretty song."
My father ate me,
My sister gathered up my bones,
She wrapped them in clean white linen,
She placed them in a hollow tree,
And now, behold, I'm a young crow.
So the boy again commenced to sing:
My mother killed me,The man with the cloak liked the song very much, and made the boy a present of his cloak.
My father ate me,
My sister gathered up my bones,
She wrapped them in clean white linen,
She placed them in a hollow tree,
And now, behold, I'm a young crow.
Then a man with a crutch-stick hobbled by. "Well, my boy," he said, "sing me that song again. I live in a big village, have traveled far, but have never heard such a pretty tune."
And the boy again commenced to sing:
My mother killed me,The man with the crutch-stick, too, liked the song immensely, and gave the boy his crutch-stick.
My father ate me,
My sister gathered up my bones,
She wrapped them in clean white linen,
She placed them in a hollow tree,
And now, behold, I'm a young crow.
The next one to pass was a miller. He also asked the boy to repeat the pretty tune, and as the boy complied with his request the miller presented him with a millstone.
Then a sudden thought flashed across the boy's head, and he flew to his father's house, settled on the roof, and commenced to sing:
My mother killed me,The woman was terrified, and said to her daughter, "Go and drive away that bird, I don't like its croaking."
My father ate me,
My sister gathered up my bones,
She wrapped them in clean white linen,
She placed them in a hollow tree,
And now, behold, I'm a young crow.
The girl went out and tried to drive away the bird, but instead of flying away the young crow continued to sing the same song, and threw down the cloak to his sister. The girl was much pleased with the present, ran into the house and exclaimed, "Look here what a nice present that ugly bird has given to me!"
"Very nice indeed; very nice indeed. I will go out too," said her father. So he went out, and the bird threw down to him the crutch-stick. The old man was highly delighted with the gift; he was getting very weak, and the crutch-stick came in useful to him as a support. "Look here what a strong crutch-stick he has given to me ! It will be a great help to me in my old age."
Then his mother jumped up from behind the oven and said, "I must go out too; if presents won't shower at least a few might drivel to me."
So she went out and looked up to the roof, and the boy gave her a present for which she had not bargained. He threw the millstone at her, which killed her on the spot.
Thus far goes our tale. Here it ends.
There was upon a time a good man who had two children: a girl by a first wife, and a boy by the second. The girl was as white as milk, and her lips were like cherries. Her hair was like golden silk, and it hung to the ground. Her brother loved her dearly, but her wicked stepmother hated her.
"Child," said the stepmother one day, "go to the grocer's shop and buy me a pound of candles."
She gave her the money, and the little girl went, bought the candles, and started on her return. There was a stile to cross. She put down the candles while she got over the stile. Up came a dog and ran off with the candles.
She went back to the grocer's, and she got a second bunch. She came to the stile, set down the candles, and proceeded to climb over. Up came the dog and ran off with the candles.
She went again to the grocer's, and she got a third bunch, and just the same event happened. Then she came to her stepmother crying, for she had spent all the money and had lost three bunches of candles.
The stepmother was angry, but she pretended not to mind the loss. She said to the child, "Come, lay your head on my lap that I may comb your hair."
So the little one laid her head in the woman's lap, who proceeded to comb the yellow silken hair. And when she combed, the hair fell over her knees and rolled right down to the ground.
Then the stepmother hated her more for the beauty of her hair, so she said to her, "I cannot part your hair on my knee. Fetch a billet of wood."
So she fetched it.
Then said the stepmother, "I cannot part your hair with a comb. Fetch me an ax."
So she fetched it.
"Now," said the wicked woman, "Lay your head down on the billet while I part your hair."
Well! She laid down her little golden head without fear; and whist! down came the ax, and it was off. So the mother wiped the ax and laughed.
Then she took the heart and liver of the little girl, and she stewed them and brought them into the house for supper. The husband tasted them and shook his head. He said they tasted very strangely. She gave some to the little boy, but he would not eat. She tried to force him, but he refused, and ran out into the garden, and took up his little sister, and put her in a box, and buried the box under a rose tree; and every day he went to the tree and wept, till his tears ran down on the box.
One day the rose tree flowered. It was spring, and there among the flowers was a white bird; and it sang, and sang, and sang like an angel out of heaven. Away it flew, and it went to a cobbler's shop, and perched itself on a tree hard by; and thus it sang:
My wicked mother slew me,
My dear father ate me,
My little brother whom I love
Sits below, and I sing above
Stick, stock, stone dead.
"Sing again that beautiful song," asked the shoemaker.
"If you will first give me those little red shoes you are making."
The cobbler gave the shoes, and the bird sang the song, then flew to a tree in front of a watchmaker's and sang:
My wicked mother slew me,
My dear father ate me,
My little brother whom I love
Sits below, and I sing above
Stick, stock, stone dead.
"Oh, the beautiful song! Sing it again, sweet bird," asked the watchmaker.
"If you will give me first that gold watch and chain in your hand."
The jeweler gave the watch and chain. The bird took it in one foot, the shoes in the other, and flew away, after having repeated the song, to where three millers were picking a millstone. The bird perched on a tree and sang:
My wicked mother slew me,
My dear father ate me,
My little brother whom I love
Sits below, and I sing above
Stick!
Then one of the men put down his tool and looked up from his work,
Stock!
Then the second miller's man laid aside his tool and looked up,
Stone!
Then the third miller's man laid down his tool and looked up,
Dead!
Then all three cried out with one voice, "Oh, what a beautiful song! Sing it sweet bird, again."
"If you will put the millstone round my neck," said the bird.
The men complied with the bird's request, and away to the tree it flew with the millstone round his neck, the red shoes in the grasp of one foot, and the gold watch and chain in the grasp of the other. He sang the song and then flew home.
It rattled the millstone against the eaves of the house, and the stepmother said, "It thunders."
Then the little boy ran out to see the thunder, and down dropped the red shoes at his feet.
It rattled the millstone against the eaves of the house once more, and the stepmother said again, "It thunders."
Then the father ran out, and down fell the chain about his neck.
In ran father and son, laughing and saying, "See, the thunder has brought us these fine things!"
Then the bird rattled the millstone against the eaves of the house a third time, and the stepmother said, "It thunders again. Perhaps the thunder has brought something for me," and she ran out. But the moment she stepped outside the door, down fell the millstone on her head. And so she died.
So Mary went on her way, but lower down the road a horse that was running by splashed her frock again. When she got home her mother took her in the cellar and cut her head off, and hung it on the wall.
When her father came home he said, "Where is our Mary?"
Her mother told him she had gone to her grandmother's to stay all night.
When bedtime came he said, "I will fetch the sticks up;" but his wife said, "No, I will;" but he said, "No, I will fetch them up;" and she said, "No, I will;" but he would not let her fetch them.
When he had got down in the cellar he saw the head hung up, so when he had come out of the cellar he asked his wife what it was. She told him that it was a sheep's head that she was going to make some broth of for tomorrow's dinner.
When he came home to dinner next day, he said, "This broth is nice, but it does taste like our Mary."
When his wife heard this she was very frightened; but when her husband found out what had been done he took her in the cellar and killed her.
There was once a man that worked in the fields, and had a wife, and a son, and a daughter. One day he caught a hare, and took it home to his wife, and asked her to make it ready for his dinner. While it was on the fire the goodwife tasted and tasted at it, till she had tasted it all away, and she did not know what to do for her goodman's dinner.
So she called her son Johnny to come in and get his head combed, and when she was combing his head, she killed him and put him into the pot.
Well, the goodman came home to his dinner, and his wife set down Johnny, well boiled, in front of him. And when he was eating, he took up a foot and said, "That's surely my Johnny's foot."
"Such nonsense! It's one of the hare's," said the goodwife.
Then he took up a hand and said, "That's surely my Johnny's hand."
"You're talking foolishness, goodman. It's another of the hare's feet.
So when the goodman had eaten his dinner, little Katy, Johnny's sister, gather all the bones and buried them beneath a stone just outside the door:
Where they grew, and they grew,
To a milk-white doo [dove],
That took its wings,
And away it flew.
And it flew till it came to where two women were washing clothes, and it sat down on a stone and cried:
Pew, pew,
My minny me slew,
My daddy me chew,
My sister gathered by banes,
And put them between twa milk-white stanes;
And I grew, and I grew,
To a milk-white doo,
And I took to my wings, and away I flew.
"Say that over again, my bonny bird, and we'll give you all these clothes," said the women.
Pew, pew,
My minny me slew,
My daddy me chew,
My sister gathered by banes,
And put them between twa milk-white stanes;
And I grew, and I grew,
To a milk-white doo,
And I took to my wings, and away I flew.
And it got the clothes; and then flew till it came to a man counting a great heap of silver, and it sat down and cried:
Pew, pew,
My minny me slew,
My daddy me chew,
My sister gathered by banes,
And put them between twa milk-white stanes;
And I grew, and I grew,
To a milk-white doo,
And I took to my wings, and away I flew.
Say that again, my bonny bird, and I'll give you all this silver," said the man.
Pew, pew,
My minny me slew,
My daddy me chew,
My sister gathered by banes,
And put them between twa milk-white stanes;
And I grew, and I grew,
To a milk-white doo,
And I took to my wings, and away I flew.
And it got all the silver, and then it flew till it came to two millers grinding corn, and it cried:
Pew, pew,
My minny me slew,
My daddy me chew,
My sister gathered by banes,
And put them between twa milk-white stanes;
And I grew, and I grew,
To a milk-white doo,
And I took to my wings, and away I flew.
Say that again, my bonny bird, and I'll give you this millstone, said the miller.
Pew, pew,
My minny me slew,
My daddy me chew,
My sister gathered by banes,
And put them between twa milk-white stanes;
And I grew, and I grew,
To a milk-white doo,
And I took to my wings, and away I flew.
And it got the millstone. And then it flew till it lit on its father's housetop. It threw small stones down the chimney, and Katy came out to see what was the matter, and the dove threw all the clothes to her. Then the father came out, and the dove threw all the silver to him. And then the mother came out, and the dove threw down the millstone upon her and killed her.
And at last it flew away, and the goodman and his daughter after that,
Lived happy, and died happy,
And never drank out of a dry cappy.
Once upon a time there was a poor man, who had a wife and two children, a boy and a girl. He was so poor that he possessed nothing in the world but the ashes on his hearth.
His wife died, and after a time he married another woman, who was cantankerous and bad natured, and from morning till evening, as long as the day lasted, she gave the poor man no peace, but snarled and shouted at him.
The woman said to him, "Do away with these children. You cannot even keep me. How then can you keep all these mouths?" for was she not a stepmother?
The poor man stood her nagging for a long time, but then, one night, she quarreled so much that he promised her that he would take the children into the forest and leave them there. The two children were sitting in the corner but held their peace and heard all that was going on.
The next day, the man, taking his ax upon his shoulder, called to the children and said to them, "Come with me into the forest. I am going to cut wood."
The little children went with him, but before they left, the little girl filled her pocket with ashes from the hearth, and as she walked along she dropped little bits of coal the way they went.
After a time they reached a very dense part of the forest, where they could not see their way any longer, and there the man said to the children, "Wait here for a while. I am only going to cut wood yonder. When I have done I will come back and fetch you home." And leaving the children there in the thicket, he went away, heavy hearted, and returned home.
The children waited for a while, and seeing that their father did not return, the girl knew what he had done. So they slept through the night in the forest, and the next morning, taking her brother by the hand, she followed the trace of the ashes which she had left on the road, and thus came home to their own house.
When the stepmother saw them, she did not know what to do with herself. She went almost out of her mind with fury. If she could, she would have swallowed them in a spoonful of water, so furious was she.
The husband, who was a weakling, tried to pacify her, and to endeavor to get the children away by one means or another, but did not succeed.
When the stepmother found that she could not do anything through her husband, she made up her mind that she herself would get rid of them. So one morning, when her husband had gone away, she took the little boy, and without saying anything to anybody, she killed him and gave him to his sister to cut him up, and prepare a meal for all of them. What was she to do? If she was not to be killed like her brother, she had to do what her stepmother told her.
And so she cut him up and cooked him ready for the meal But she took the heart, and hid it away in a hollow of a tree. When the stepmother asked her where the heart was, she said that a dog had come and taken it away.
In the evening, when the husband came home, she brought the broth with the meat for the husband to eat, and she sat down and ate of it, and so did the husband, not knowing that he was eating the flesh of his child. The little girl refused to eat it. She would not touch it. After they had finished, she gathered up all the little bones and hid them in the hollow of the tree where she had put the heart.
The next morning, out of that hollow of the tree there came a little bird with dark feathers, and sitting on the branch of a tree, began to sing, "Cuckoo! My sister has cooked me, and my father has eaten me, but I am now a cuckoo and safe from my stepmother."
When the stepmother, who happened to be near the tree, heard what that little bird was singing, in her fury and fright she took a heavy lump of salt which lay near at hand, and threw it at the cuckoo. But instead of hitting it, the lump fell down on her head and killed her on the spot.
And the little boy has remained a cuckoo to this very day.
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Revised December 5, 2008.