D. L. Ashliman
© 2000-2010
folktales of Aarne-Thompson type 1696
translated and/or edited by
D. L. Ashliman
© 2000-2010
Return to D. L. Ashliman's folktexts, a library of folktales, folklore, fairy tales, and mythology.
Once upon a time there was a poor woman who had a son who wanted very much to travel. His mother said, "How can you travel? We have no money at all for you to take with you."
Then the son said, "I will take care of myself. I will always say, 'Not much, not much, not much.'"
So he walked for a long time, always saying, "Not much, not much, not much."
Then he came to a group of fishermen, and said, "God be with you. Not much, not much, not much."
"What do you say, fellow? Not much?"
And when they pulled up their net, they had not caught many fish. So one of them fell on the boy with a stick, saying, "Have you ever seen me thrash?"
"What should I say, then?" asked the boy.
"You should say, "Catch a lot. Catch a lot."
Then he again walked a long time, saying, "Catch a lot. Catch a lot," until he came to a gallows, where they were about to hang a poor sinner. Then said he, "Good morning. Catch a lot. Catch a lot."
"What do you say, fellow? Catch a lot? Should there be even more wicked people in the world? Isn't this enough?" And he again got it on his back.
"What should I say, then?" he asked.
"You should say, "May God comfort the poor soul."
Again the boy walked on for a long while, saying, "May God comfort the poor soul." Then he came to a ditch where a knacker was skinning a horse. The boy said, "Good morning. May God comfort the poor soul."
"What do you say, you disgusting fellow?" said the knacker, hitting him about the ears with his skinning hook until he could not see out of his eyes.
"What should I say, then?"
"You should say, 'Lie in the ditch, you carcass.'"
So he walked on, saying, "Lie in the ditch, you carcass. Lie in the ditch, you carcass." He came to a coach filled with people, and said, "Lie in the ditch, you carcass."
Then the coach tipped over into the ditch, and the driver took his whip and beat the boy until he had to crawl back to his mother, and as long as he lived he never went traveling again.
Once upon a time there was a widow who had a son named Michel. One day she said to him, "Michel, I can no longer provide for you. You must go to the village. And when you get there, you must say, 'A hundred every day! A hundred every day!'"
Michel said, "I will do that."
Upon his arrival in the village a funeral coach came his way, and he cried out, "A hundred every day! A hundred every day!"
Then the pallbearers came and gave him a beating. Michel returned home and said to his mother, "Mother, I got beaten up."
His mother asked, "Why?"
Michel replied, "When I arrived in the village a funeral coach came my way, and I cried out, "A hundred every day! A hundred every day! Then the pallbearers came and gave me a beating."
"You did a bad thing," responded his mother. "You should have cried and wrung your hands."
"I can still do that," replied Michel.
When he arrived in the village again, a wedding coach came his way, so Michel sat down and cried and wrung his hands. Then the members of the wedding party came and gave him a beating.
Michel returned home again and said to his mother, "I got beaten up again!"
"Why this time?" asked his mother.
"Well," said Michel, "when I arrived in the village a wedding coach came my way, so I sat down and cried and wrung my hands. Then the members of the wedding party came and gave me a beating."
"You did a bad thing," responded the mother. "You should have danced and shouted, 'Happiness and joy! Happiness and joy!'"
"I can still do that," replied Michel.
When he arrived in the village this time, there was a house on fire. He ran up to it, dancing and shouting, "Happiness and joy! Happiness and joy!" Then the men came and gave him a beating.
Michel returned home again and said to his mother, "I got beaten up again!"
"Why this time?" asked his mother.
Michel said, "When I arrived in the village, there was a house on fire. I ran up to it dancing and shouting, 'Happiness and joy! Happiness and joy!' Then the men came and gave me a beating."
"You did a bad thing," responded the mother. "You should have thrown a bucket of water on it."
"I can still do that," replied Michel.
When he arrived in the village this time, there was a wagon standing there filled with beehives, so he took a bucket of water and poured in on the bees. Then the beekeeper came and gave him a beating.
Michel returned home again and said to his mother, "I got beaten up again!"
"Oh, why this time?" asked his mother.
Michel answered, "When I arrived in the village, there was a wagon standing there filled with beehives, so I took a bucket of water and poured in on the bees. Then the beekeeper came and gave me a beating.
"You did a bad thing," responded the mother. "You should have said, 'Give me a sweet treat for my mother! Give me a sweet treat for my mother!'"
"I can still do that," replied Michel.
When he arrived in the village this time, a manure wagon was just being unloaded. Michel went up to it and said, "Give me a sweet treat for my mother! Give me a sweet treat for my mother!"
"Gladly!" said the workers. "Just hold out your cap." Then they filled his cap full to the top.
Then Michel went home and shouted, "Mother, mother, see what I've got here! Mother, mother, see what I've got here!"
Then the mother took hold of him and gave him a beating.
All this the goody thought bad; and it was still worse she thought that her son idled about and never turned his hand to anything else than yawning and stretching himself between the four walls.
Now close to where they lived ran a great river, and the stream was strong and bad to cross. So, one day, the goody said to the lad, there was no lack of timber there, for it grew almost up to the cottage-wall; he must cut some down and drag it to the bank and try to build a bridge over the river and take toll, and then he would both have something to do and something to live upon besides.
Yes! Matt thought so too, for his mother had said it; what she begged him do, he would do. That was safe and sure he said, for what she said must be so and not otherwise. So he hewed down timber and dragged it down and built a bridge. It didn't go so awfully fast with the work, but at any rate he had his hands full while it went on.
When the bridge was ready, the lad was to stand down at its end and take toll of those who wanted to cross, and his mother bade him be sure not to let any one over unless they paid the toll. It was all the same, she said, if it were not always in money. Goods and wares were just as good pay.
So the first day came three chaps with each his load of hay, and wanted to cross the bridge.
"No! no!" said the lad; "you can't go over till I've taken the toll."
"We've nothing to pay it with," they said.
"Well, then! you can't cross; but it's all the same, if it isn't money. Goods will do just as well."
So they gave him each a wisp of hay, and he had as much as would go on a little hand-sledge, and then they had leave to pass over the bridge.
Next came a pedlar with his pack, who sold needles and thread, and such like small wares, and he wanted to cross.
"You can't cross, till you have paid the toll," said the lad.
"I've nothing to pay it with," said the pedlar.
"You have wares, at any rate."
"So the pedlar took out two needles and gave them him, and then he had leave to cross the bridge. As for the needles, the lad stuck them into the hay, and soon set off home.
So when he got home, he said, "Now, I have taken the toll, and got something to live on."
"What did you get?" asked the goody.
"Oh!" said he, "there came three chaps, each with his load of hay. They each gave me a wisp of hay, so that I got a little sledge-load; and next, I got two needles from a pedlar.
"What did you do with the hay?" asked the goody.
"I tried it between my teeth; but it tasted only of grass, so I threw into the river."
"You ought to have spread it out on the byre-floor," said the goody.
"Well! I'll do that next time, mother," he said.
"And what then did you do with the needles?" said the goody.
"I stuck them in the hay!"
"Ah!" said his mother. "You are a born fool. You should have stuck them in and out of your cap."
"Well! don't say another word, mother, and I'll be sure to do so next time."
Next day, when the lad stood down at the foot of the bridge again, there came a man from the mill with a sack of meal, and wanted to cross.
"You can't cross till you pay the toll," said the lad.
"I've no pence to pay it with," said the man.
"Well! You can't cross," said the lad; "but goods are good pay."
So he got a pound of meal, and the man had leave to cross. Not long after came a smith, with a horse-pack of smith's work, and wanted to cross; but it was still the same.
"You mustn't cross till you've paid the toll," said the lad.
But he too had no money either; so he gave the lad a gimlet, and then he had leave to cross. So when the lad got home to his mother, the toll was the first thing she asked about.
"What did you take for toll today?"
"Oh! there came a man from the mill with a sack of meal, and he gave me a pound of meal; and then came a smith, with a horse-load of smith's-work, and he gave me a gimlet."
"And pray what did you do with the gimlet?" asked the goody.
"I did as you bade me, mother," said the lad. "I stuck it in and out of my cap."
"Oh! but that was silly," said the goody; "you oughtn't to have stuck it out and in your cap; but you should have stuck it up your shirt-sleeve."
"Ay! ay! only be still, mother; and I'll be sure to do it next time."
"And what did you do with the meal, I'd like to know?" said the goody.
"Oh! I did as you bade me, mother. I spread it over the byre-floor."
"Never heard anything so silly in my born days," said the goody; "why, you ought to have gone home for a pail and put it into it."
"Well! well! only be still, mother," said the lad; "and I'll be sure to do it next time."
Next day the lad was down at the foot of the bridge to take toll, and so there came a man with a horse-load of brandy, and wanted to cross.
"You can't cross till you pay the toll," said the lad.
"I've got no money," said the man.
"Well, then, you can't cross; but you have goods, of course," said the lad.
Yes; so he got half a quart of brandy, and that he poured up his shirt-sleeve. A while after came a man with a drove of goats, and wanted to cross the bridge.
"You can't cross till you pay the toll," said the lad.
Well! he was no richer than the rest. He had no money; but still he gave the lad a little billy-goat, and he got over with his drove. But the lad took the goat and trod it down into a bucket he had brought with him.
So when he got home, the goody asked again, "What did you take today?"
"Oh! there came a man with a load of brandy, and from him I got a pint of brandy."
"And what did you do with it!"
"I did as you bade me, mother; I poured it up my shirt-sleeve."
"Ay! but that was silly, my son; you should have come home to fetch a bottle and poured it into it."
"Well! well! be still this time, mother, and I'll be sure to do what you say next time," and then he went on.
"Next came a man with a drove of goats, and he gave me a little billy-goat, and that I trod down into the bucket."
"Dear me!" said his mother, "that was silly, and sillier than silly, my son; you should have twisted a withy round its neck, and led the billy-goat home by it."
"Well! be still, mother, and see if I don't do as you say next time."
Next day he set oft for the bridge again to take toll, and so a man came with a load of butter, and wanted to cross. But the lad said he couldn't cross unless he paid toll.
"I've nothing to pay it with," said the man.
"Well! then you can't cross," said the lad; "but you have goods, and I'll take them instead of money."
So the man gave him a pat of butter, and then he had eave to cross the bridge, and the lad strode off to a grove of willows and twisted a withy, and twined it round the butter, and dragged it home along the road; but so long as he went he left some of the butter behind him, and when he got home there was none left.
"And what did you take today?" asked his mother.
"There came a man with a load of butter, and he gave a pat."
"Butter!" said the goody, "Where is it?"
"I did as you bade me, mother," said the lad. "I tied a withy round the pat and led it home; but it was all lost by the way."
"Oh!" said the goody, "You were born a fool, and you'll die a fool. Now you are not one bit better off for all your toil; but had you been like other folk, you might have had both meat and brandy, and both hay and tools. If you don't know better how to behave, I don't know what's to be done with you. Maybe, you might be more like the rest of the world, and get some sense into you if you were married to some one who could settle things for you, and so I think you had better set off and see about finding a brave lass; but you must be sure you know how to behave well on the way and to greet folk prettily when you meet them."
"And pray what shall I say to them?" asked the lad.
"To think of your asking that," said his mother. "Why, of course, you must bid them 'God's Peace,' Don't you know that?"
"Yes! yes! I'll do as you bid," said the lad; and so he set off on his way to woo him a wife.
So, when he had gone a bit of the way, he met Greylegs, the wolf, with her seven cubs; and when he got so far as to be alongside them, he stood still and greeted them with "God's Peace!" and when he had said that, he went home again.
"I said it all as you bade me, mother," said Matt.
"And what was that?" asked his mother.
"God's Peace," said Matt.
"And pray whom did you meet?"
"A she wolf with seven cubs; that was all I met," said Matt.
"Ay! ay! You are like yourself," said his mother. "So it was, and so it will ever be. Why in the world did you say 'God's Peace' to a wolf. You should have clapped your hands and said, 'Huf! huf! you jade of a she-wolf!' That's what you ought to have said."
"Well! well! be still, mother," he said. I'll be sure to say so another time."
And with that he strode off from the farm, and when he had gone a bit on the way, he met a bridal train.
So he stood still when he had got well up to the bride and bridegroom, and clapped his hands and said, "Huf! huf! you jade of a she-wolf!"
After that he went home to his mother and said, "I did as you bade me mother; but I got a good thrashing for it, that I did."
"What was it you did?" she asked.
"Oh! I clapped my hands and called out, 'Huf! huf! you jade of a she-wolf!'"
"And what was it you met?"
"I met a bridal train."
"Ah! you are a fool, and always will be a fool," said his mother. "Why should you say such things to a bridal train. You should have said, 'Ride happily, bride and bridegroom.'"
"Well! well! See if I don't say so next time," said the lad, and off he went again.
So he met a bear, who was taking a ride on a horse, and Matt waited till he came alongside him, and then he said, "A happy ride to you, bride and bridegroom," and then he went back to his mother and told her how he had said what she bade him.
"And pray! what was it you said?" she asked.
"I said, 'A happy ride to you both, bride and bridegroom.'"
"And whom did you meet?"
"I met a bear taking a ride on a horse," said Matt.
"My goodness! what a fool you are," said his mother. "You ought to have said, 'To the de'il with you.' That's what you ought to have said."
"Well! well! mother, I'll be sure to say so next time."
So he set off again, and this time he met a funeral; and when he had come well up to the coffin, he greeted it and said, "To the de'il with you!" and then he ran home to his mother, and told her he had said what she bade him.
"And what was that?" she asked.
"Oh! I said, 'To the de'il with you.'"
"And what was it you met?"
"I met a funeral," said Matt; "but I got more kicks than halfpence!"
"You didn't get half enough," said the goody. "Why, of course, you ought to have said, 'May your poor soul have mercy.' That's what you ought to have said."
"Ay! ay! mother! so I will next time, only be still," said Matt, and off he went again.
So when he had gone a bit of the way he fell on two ugly Gypsies who were skinning a dog. So when he came up to them he greeted them and said, "May your poor soul have mercy," and when he had said so he went home and told his mother he had said what she bade him; but all he got was such a drubbing he could scarce drag one leg after the other.
"But what was it you said?" asked the goody.
"'May your poor soul have mercy,' that was what I said."
"And whom did you meet?"
"A pair of Gypsies skinning a dog," he said.
"Well! well!" said the goody. "There's no hope of your changing. You'll always be a shame and sorrow to us wherever you go. I never heard such shocking words. But now, you must set out and take no notice of any one you meet, for you must be off to woo a wife, and see if you can get some one who knows more of the ways of the world and has a better head on her shoulders than yours. And now you must behave like other folk, and if all goes well you may bless your stars, and bawl out, "Hurrah!"
Yes, the lad did all that his mother bade him. He set off and wooed a lass, and she thought he couldn't be so bad a fellow after all; and so she said, "Yes," she would have him.
When the lad got home the goody wanted to know what his sweetheart's name was; but he did not know. So the goody got angry and said, he must just set off again, for she would know what the girl's name was. So when Matt was going home again he had sense enough to ask her what she was called.
"Well," she said, "my name is Solvy; but I thought you knew it already."
So Matt ran off home, and as he went he mumbled to himself,
Solvy, Solvy,But just as he was running as hard as he could to reach home before he forgot it, he tripped over a tuft of grass, and forgot the name again. So when he got on his feet again he began to search all round the hillock, but all he could find was a spade. So he seized it and began to dig and search as hard as he could, and as he was hard at it up came an old man.
Is my darling!
Solvy, Solvy,
Is my darling?
"What are you digging for?" said the man. "Have you lost anything here?"
"Oh yes! oh yes! I have lost my sweetheart's name, and I can't find it again."
"I think her name is Solvy," said the man.
"Oh yes, that's it," said Matt, and away he ran with the spade in his hand, bawling out,
Solvy, Solvy,But when he had gone a little way he called to mind that he had taken the spade, and so he threw it behind him, right onto the man's leg. Then the man began to roar and bemoan himself as though he had a knife stuck in him, and then Matt forgot the name again, and ran home as fast as he could, and when he got there, the first thing his mother asked was, "What's your sweetheart's name?"
Is my darling!
But Matt was just as wise as when he set out, for he did not know the name any better the last than the first time.
"You are the same big fool, that you are," said the goody. "You won't do any better this time either. But now I'll just set off myself and fetch the girl home, and get you married. Meanwhile you must fetch water up to the fifth plank all round the room, and wash it, and then you must take a little fat and a little lean, and the greenest thing you can find in the cabbage garden, and boil them all up together; and when you have done that you must put yourself into fine feather, and look smart when your lassie comes, and then you may sit down on the dresser."
Yes, all that Matt thought he could do very well. He fetched water and dashed it about the room in floods, but he couldn't get it to stand above the fourth plank, for when it rose higher it ran out. So he had to leave off that work. But now you must know, they had a dog whose name was Fat, and a cat whose name was Lean. Both these he took and put into the soup-kettle. As for the greenest thing in the garden, it was a green gown which the goody had meant for her daughter-in-law; that he cut up into little bits, and away it went into the pot; but their little pig, which was called All, he cooked by himself in the brewing tub. And when Matt had done all this he laid hands on a pot of treacle and a feather pillow. Then he first of all rubbed himself all over with the treacle, and then he tore open the pillow and rolled himself in the feathers, and then he sat down on the dresser out in the kitchen, till his mother and the lassie came.
Now the first thing the goody missed when she came to her house was the dog, for it always used to meet her out of doors. The next thing was the cat, for it always met her in the porch, and when the weather was right down good and the sun shone, she even came out into the yard, and met her at the garden gate. Nor could she see the green gown she had meant for her daughter-in-law either, and her piggy-wiggy, which followed her grunting wherever she went, he was not there either. So she went in to see about all this; but as soon as ever she lifted the latch, out poured the water through the doorway like a waterfall, so that they were almost borne away by the flood, both the goody and the lassie.
So they had to go round by the back door, and when they got inside the kitchen there sat that figure of fun all befeathered.
"What have you done?" said the goody.
"I did just as you bade me, mother," said Matt. "I tried to get the water up to the fifth plank, but as fast as ever I poured it in it ran out again, and so I could only get up as high as the fourth plank."
"Well! well! but Fat and Lean," said the goody, who wished to turn it off; "what have you done with them?"
"I did as you bade me, mother," said Matt. "I took and put them into the soup-kettle. They both scratched and bit, and they mewed and whined, and Fat was strong and kicked against it; but he had to go in at last all the same; and as for All, he's cooking by himself in the brewing tub in the brew-house, for there wasn't room for him in the soup-kettle."
"But what have you done with that new green gown I meant for my daughter-in-law?" said the goody, trying to hide his silliness.
"Oh! I did as you bade me, mother. It hung out in the cabbage-garden, and as it was the greatest thing there, I took it and cut it up small, and yonder it boils in the soup."
"Away ran the goody to the chimney-corner, tore off the pot and turned it upside down with all that was in it. Then she filled it anew and put it on to boil. But when she had time to look at Matt she was quite shocked.
"Why is it you are such a figure?" she cried.
"I did as you bade me, mother," said Matt. "First I rubbed myself all over with treacle to make myself sweet for my bride, and then I tore open the pillow and put myself into fine feathers."
Well, the goody turned it off as well as she could, and picked off the feathers from her son, and washed him clean, and put fresh clothes on him.
So at last they were to have the wedding, but first Matt was to go to the town and sell a cow to buy things for the bridal. The goody had told him what he was to do, and the beginning and end of what she said was, he was to be sure to get something for the cow. So when he got to the market with the cow, and they asked what he was to have for her, they could get no other answer out of him than that he was to have something for her. So at last came a butcher, who begged him to take the cow and follow him home, and he'd be sure to give him something for her.
Yes, Matt went off with the cow, and when he got to the butcher's house the butcher spat into the palm of Matt's hand, and said, "There, you have something for your cow, but look sharp after it."
So off went Matt as carefully as if he trode on eggs, holding his hand shut; but when he had got about as far as the cross-road, which led to their farm, he met the parson, who came driving along.
"Open the gate for me, my lad," said the parson.
So the lad hastened to open the gate, but in doing so he forgot what he had in his palm, and took the gate by both hands, so that what he got for the cow was left sticking on the gate. So when he saw it was gone he got cross, and said, his reverence had taken something from him.
But when the parson asked him if he had lost his wits, and said he had taken nothing from him, Matt got so wrath he killed the parson at a blow, and buried him in a bog by the wayside.
So when he got home he told his mother all about it, and she slaughtered a billy-goat, and laid it where Matt had laid the parson, but she buried the parson in another place. And when she had done that she hung over the fire a pot of brose, and when it was cooked she made Matt sit down in the ingle and split matches. Meantime she went up on the roof with the pot and poured the brose down the chimney, so that it streamed over her son.
Next day came the sheriff. So when the sheriff asked him, Matt did not gainsay that he had slain the parson, and more, he was quite ready to show the sheriff where he had laid his reverence.
But when the sheriff asked on what day it happened, Matt said, "It was the day when it rained brose over the whole world."
So when he got to the spot where he had buried the parson the sheriff pulled out the billy-goat, and asked, "Had your parson horns?"
Now when the judges heard the story, they made up their minds that the lad was quite out of his wits, and so he got off scot free.
So after all the bridal was to stand, and the goody had a long talk with her son, and bade him be sure to behave prettily when they sat at table. He was not to look too much at the bride, but to cast an eye at her now and then. Peas he might eat by himself, but he must share the eggs with her, and he was not to lay the leg bones by his side on the table, but to place them tidily on his plate.
Yes, Matt would do all that, and he did it well; yes, he did all that his mother bade him, and nothing else. First, he stole out to the sheepfold, and plucked the eyes out of all the sheep and goats he could find, and took them with him. So when they went to dinner he sat with his back to his bride; but all at once he cast a sheep's eye at her so that it hit her full in her face; and a little while after he cast another, and so he went on. As for the eggs he ate them all up to his own cheek, so that the lassie did not get a taste, but when the peas came he shared them with her. And when they had eaten a while Matt put his feet together, and up on his plate went his legs.
At night, when they were to go to bed, the lassie was tired and weary, for she thought it no good to have such a fool for her husband. So she said she had forgotten something and must go out a little; but she could not get Matt's leave; he would follow her, for to tell the truth, he was afraid she would never come back.
"No! no! lie still, I say," said the bride. "See, here's a long hair-rope; tie it round me, and I'll leave the door ajar. So if you think I'm too long away you have only to pull the rope and then you'll drag me in again."
Yes, Matt was content with that; but as soon as the lassie got out into the yard she caught a billy-goat and untied the rope and tied it round him.
So when Matt thought she was too long out of doors he began to haul in the rope, and so he dragged the billy-goat up into bed to him. But when he had lain a while, he bawled out, "Mother! mother! my bride has horns like a billygoat!"
"Stuff! silly boy to lie and bewail yourself." said his mother. "It's only her hair-plaits, poor thing, I'm sure."
In a little while Matt called out again, "Mother! mother! my bride has a beard like a goat."
"Stuff! silly boy to lie there and rave," said the goody.
But there was no rest in that house that night, for in a little while Matt screeched out that his bride was like a billy-goat all over.
So when it grew towards morning the goody said, "Jump up, my son, and make a fire."
So Matt climbed up to a shelf under the roof, and set fire to some straw and chips, and other rubbish that lay there. But then such a smoke rose, that he couldn't bear it any longer indoors. He was forced to go out, and just then the day broke. As for the goody, she too had to make a start of it, and when they got out the house was on fire, so that the flames came right out at the roof.
"Good luck! good luck! Hip, hip, hurrah!" roared out Matt, for he thought it fine fun to have such an ending to his bridal feast.
Sheep's head and pluck!Trudging along, he came to a stile; but in getting over he fell and hurt himself, and, beginning to blubber, forgot what he was sent for. So he stood a little while to consider; at last he thought he recollected it, and began to repeat:
Sheep's head and pluck!
Liver and lights [lungs] and gall and all!Away he went again, and came to where a man was sick, bawling out:
Liver and lights and gall and all!
Liver and lights and gall and all!Whereon the man laid hold of him and beat him, bidding him say:
Liver and lights and gall and all!
Pray God send no more up!The youngster strode along, uttering these words, till he reached a field where a hind [farm servant] was sowing wheat:
Pray God send no more up!
Pray God send no more up!This was all his cry. So the sower began to thrash him, and charged him to repeat:
Pray God send no more up!
Pray God send plenty more!Off the child scampered with these words in his mouth till he reached a churchyard and met a funeral, but he went on with his:
Pray God send plenty more!
Pray God send plenty more!The chief mourner seized and punished him, and bade him repeat:
Pray God send plenty more!
Pray God send the soul to heaven!Away went the boy, and met a dog and a bitch going to be hung, but his cry rang out:
Pray God send the soul to heaven!
Pray God send the soul to heaven!The good folk nearly were furious, seized and struck him, charging him to say:
Pray God send the soul to heaven!
A dog and a bitch a-going to be hung!This the poor fellow did, till he overtook a man and a woman going to be married. "Oh! oh!" he shouted:
A dog and a bitch a-going to be hung!
A dog and a bitch a-going to be hung!The man was enraged, as we may well think, gave him many a thump, and ordered him to repeat:
A dog and a bitch a-going to be hung!
I wish you much joy!This he did, jogging along, till he came to two labourers who had fallen into a ditch. The lad kept bawling out:
I wish you much joy!
I wish you much joy!This vexed one of the folk so sorely that he used all his strength, scrambled out, beat the crier, and told him to say:
I wish you much joy!
The one is out, I wish the other was!On went young 'un till he found a fellow with only one eye; but he kept up his song:
The one is out, I wish the other was!
The one is out, I wish the other was!This was too much for Master One-eye, who grabbed him and chastised him, bidding him call:
The one is out, I wish the other was!
The one side gives good light, I wish the other did!So he did, to be sure, till he came to a house, one side of which was on fire. The people here thought it was he who had set the place a-blazing, and straightway put him in prison. The end was, the judge put on his black cap and condemned him to die.
The one side gives good light, I wish the other did!
So the boy started, saying, "Heart, liver, 'n' lights! Heart, liver, 'n' lights!"
By and by he came across a man puking. He took him and gave him a whipping, and said, "You want I should puke up my heart, liver, and lights, do you?"
"No," said the boy; "what shall I say ?" and the man told him to say, "I wish they may never come up!"
So the boy went on, saying, "Wish 'ey may never come up! Wish 'ey may never come up!"
By and by he came across a man planting beans, and he took and whipped him and said, "You wish my beans should never come up, do you?"
The boy said, "No, what shall I say?"
"Say, 'I wish fifty-fold this year and a hundred-fold next.'"
So the boy went on, saying, " Wish fifty-fold this year, 'n' a hundred-fold next! Wish fifty-fold this year 'n' a hundred-fold next!"
By and by he came across a funeral, and they took and whipped him, and said, "You wish fifty-fold to die this year and a hundred-fold next, do you?"
The boy said, "No, what shall I say?"
"Say, 'I wish they may never die!'"
So the boy went on, saying, " Wish 'ey may never die! Wish 'ey may never die!"
By and by he came across a man who was trying to kill two dogs, and he took and whipped him and said, "You wish the dogs should never die, do you?"
The boy said, "No, what shall I say?"
"Say, 'The dog and the bitch are going to be hanged!'"
So the boy went on, saying, "The dog 'n' the bitch are gon ter be hanged! The dog 'n' the bitch are gon ter be hanged!"
By and by he came across a wedding party, and they took and whipped him and said, "You call us dog and bitch, do you?"
The boy said, "No, what shall I say?"
"Say, 'I wish you may live happily together!'"
So the boy went on, saying, "Wish y' may live happily together! Wish y' may live happily together!"
By and by he came across two men who had fallen into a pit, and one of them had got out and was trying to get the other out. And he took and whipped him and said, "You wish we may live happily together in this pit, do you?"
The boy said, "No, what shall I say?"
"Say, 'One's out and I wish the other was out!'"
So the boy went on, saying, "One's out 'n' I wish t' other w's out! One's out 'n' I wish t' other w's out!"
By and by he came across a man with only one eye, and he took and whipped him till he killed him.
To the editor of The Journal of American Folk-Lore:Dear Sir,
Inclosed you will find a copy of one of the old stories I used to hear when I was a boy, as near as I can reproduce it by the aid of a cousin who used to hear it with me. My grandmother heard it in childhood at North Bridgewater, now Brockton. You will see that I have tried to give the exact words as they sounded to me, as nearly as I can represent them. I doubt this having any real value in the line of "folk-lore," but you can judge better than I. I don't remember any application that was made of the story then, but in repeating it now it seems to me it was told for a warning to forgetful boys. The exact form of expression in one or two places we cannot now recall, but have given it as nearly as possible. I have never met the story or any semblance of it in print or in conversation. I should be glad to know if it survives anywhere, and if so, whether coming from the same source, and with what variations. I have fragments of others, some of which are certainly allied to the celebrated world-wide stories like Cinderella.
Yours very truly,Silvanus Hayward.
Once upon a time there was a boy whose name was Jack, and he lived with his mother on a common. They were very poor, and the old woman got her living by spinning, but Jack was so lazy that he would do nothing but bask in the sun in the hot weather, and sit by the corner of the hearth in the wintertime. So they called him Lazy Jack.
His mother could not get him to do anything for her, and at last told him, one Monday, that if he did not begin to work for his porridge she would turn him out to get his living as he could.
This roused Jack, and he went out and hired himself for the next day to a neighboring farmer for a penny. But as he was coming home, never having had any money before, he lost it in passing over a brook.
"You stupid boy," said his mother, "you should have put it in your pocket."
"I'll do so another time," replied Jack.
On Wednesday, Jack went out again and hired himself to a cow-keeper, who gave him a jar of milk for his day's work. Jack took the jar and put it into the large pocket of his jacket, spilling it all, long before he got home.
"Dear me!" said the old woman. "You should have carried it on your head."
"I'll do so another time," said Jack.
So on Thursday, Jack hired himself again to a farmer who agreed to give him a cream cheese for his services. In the evening Jack took the cheese, and went home with it on his head. By the time he got home the cheese was all spoiled, part of it being lost, and part matted with his hair.
"You stupid lout," said his mother, "you should have carried it very carefully in your hands."
"I'll do another time," replied Jack.
On Friday Lazy Jack again went out, and hired himself to a baker, who would give him nothing for his work but a large tomcat. Jack took the cat, and began carrying it very carefully in his hands, but in a short time pussy scratched him so much that he was compelled to let it go.
When he got home, his mother said to him, "You silly fellow, you should have tied it with a string, and dragged it along after you."
"I'll do so another time," said Jack.
So on Saturday Jack hired himself to a butcher, who rewarded him by the handsome present of a shoulder of mutton. Jack took the mutton, tied it to a string and trailed it along after him in the dirt, so that by the time he had got home the meat was completely spoiled.
His mother was this time quite out of patience with him, for the next day was Sunday, and she was obliged to do with cabbage for her dinner. "You ninny-hammer," said she to her son, "you should have carried it on your shoulder."
"I'll do so another time," replied Jack.
On the next Monday Lazy Jack went once more, and hired himself to a cattle-keeper, who gave him a donkey for his trouble. Jack found it hard to hoist the donkey on his shoulders, but at last he did it, and began walking slowly home with his prize.
Now it happened that in the course of his journey there lived a rich man with his only daughter, a beautiful girl, but deaf and dumb. Now she had never laughed in her life, and the doctors said she would never speak till somebody made her laugh. This young lady happened to be looking out of the window when jack was passing with the donkey on his shoulders, with the legs sticking up in the air, and the sight was so comical and strange that she burst out into a great fit of laughter, and immediately recovered her speech and hearing. Her father was overjoyed, and fulfilled his promise by marrying her to Lazy Jack, who was thus made a rich gentleman. They lived in a large house, and Jack's mother lived with them in great happiness until she died.
"Weel," says Jock, "I'll do that."
So awa' he gangs, and fa's in wi' a packman. Says the packman: "If ye carry my pack a' day, I'll gie ye a needle at night."
So he carried the pack, and got the needle; and as he was gaun awa' hame to his mither, he cuts a burden o' brakens, and put the needle into the heart o' them. Awa' he gaes hame.
Says his mither: "What hae ye made o' yersel' the day?"
Says Jock: "I fell in wi' a packman, and carried his pack a' day, and he ga'e me a needle for't; and ye may look for it amang the brakens."
"Hout," quo' she, "ye daft gowk, ye should hae stuck it into your bonnet, man."
"I'll mind that again," quo' Jock.
Next day he fell in wi' a man carrying plough socks. "If ye help me to carry my socks a' day, I'll gie ye ane to yersel' at night."
"I'll do that," quo' Jock.
Jock carries them a' day, and gets a sock, which he sticks in his bonnet. On the way hame, Jock was dry, and gaed awa' to tak a drink out o' the burn; and wi' the weight o' the sock, it fell into the river, and gaed out o' sight.
He gaed hame, and his mother says: "Weel, Jock, what hae ye been doing a' day?"
And then he tells her.
"Hout," quo' she, "ye should hae tied a string to it, and trailed it behind you."
"Weel," quo' Jock, "I'll mind that again.
Awa' he sets, and he fa's in wi' a flesher. "Weel," says the flesher, "if ye'll be my servant a' day, I'll gie ye a leg o' mutton at night."
"I'll be that," quo' Jock.
He gets a leg o' mutton at night; he ties a string to it, and trails it behind him the hale road hame.
"What hae ye been doing?" said his mither.
He tells her.
"Hout, ye fool, ye should hae carried it on your shouther."
"I'll mind that again," quo' Jock.
Awa' he goes next day, and meets a horse-dealer. He says: "If ye will help me wi' my horses a' day, I'll gie ye ane to yersel' at night."
"I'll do that," quo' Jock. So he served him, and got his horse, and he ties its feet; but as he was not able to carry it on his back, he left it lying on the roadside.
Hame he comes, and tells his mother.
"Hout, ye daft gowk, ye'll ne'er turn wise! Could ye no hae loupen on it, and ridden it?"
"I'll mind that again," quo' Jock.
Aweel, there was a grand gentleman, wha had a daughter wha was very subject to melancholy; and her father gave out that whaever should make her laugh would get her in marriage. So it happened that she was sitting at the window ae day, musing in her melancholy state, when Jock, according to the advice o' his mither, came flying up on the cow's back, wi' the tail owre his shouther. And she burst out into a fit o' laughter. When they made inquiry wha made her laugh, it was found to be Jock riding on the cow. Accordingly, Jock is sent for to get his bride.
Weel, Jock is married to her, and there was a great supper prepared. Amongst the rest o' the things there was some honey, which Jock was very fond o'. After supper, they were bedded, and the auld priest that married them sat up a' night by the fireside.
So Jock waukens in the night-time, and says: "O wad ye gie me some o' yon nice sweet honey that we got to our supper last night?"
"O ay," says his wife; "rise and gang into the press, and ye'll get a pig fou o't."
Jock rises, and thrusts his hand into the honey-pig for a nievefu' o't; and he could not get it out. So he came awa' wi' the pig on his hand, like a mason's mell, and says: "Oh, I canna get my hand out."
"Hout," quo' she, "gang awa' and break it on the cheek-stane."
By this time the fire was dark, and the auld priest was lying snoring wi' his head against the chimney-piece, wi' a huge white wig on. Jock gaes awa', and ga'e him a whack wi' the honey-pig on the head, thinking it was the cheek-stane, and knocks it a' in bits.
The auld priest roars out "Murder!"
Jock taks down the stair as hard as he can bicker, and hides himsel' amang the bees' skeps.
That night, as luck wad have it, some thieves came to steal the bees' skeps, and in the hurry o' tumbling them into a large gray plaid, they tumbled Jock in alang wi' them. So aff they set, wi' Jock and the skeps on their backs. On the way, they had to cross the burn where Jock lost his bannet.
Ane o' the thieves cries: "O I hae fand a bannet!" and Jock, on hearing that, cries out: "O that's mine!"
They thocht they had got the deil on their backs. So they let a' fa' in the burn; and Jock, being tied in the plaid, couldna get out; so he and the bees were a' drowned thegither.
If a' tales be true, that's nae lee.
"Musha, you fool," says she, "couldn't you lay the billhook in a car, or stick it into a bundle of hay or straw that any of the neighbours would be bringing home?"
"Well, mother," said he, "it can't be helped now; I'll be wiser next time."
"Now, Jack," says she, the next Saturday, "you behaved like a fool the last time; have some wit about you now, and don't get us into a hobble. Here is a fi'penny bit, and buy me a good pair (set) of knitting needles, and fetch 'em home safe."
"Never fear, mother."
When Jack was outside the town, coming back, he overtook a neighbour sitting on the side-lace of his car, and there was a big bundle of hay in the bottom of it.
"Just the safe thing," says Jack, sticking the needles into it. When he came home he looked quite proud out of his good management.
"Well, Jack," says his mother, "where's the needles?"
"Oh, faith ! they're safe enough. Send any one down to Jem Doyle's, and he'll find them in the bundle of hay that's in the car."
"Musha, purshuin to you, Jack! why couldn't you stick them in the band o' your hat? What searching there will be for them in the hay!"
"Sure you said I ought to put any things I was bringing home in a car, or stick 'em in hay or straw. Anyhow I'll be wiser next time."
Next week Jack was sent to a neighbour's house about a mile away, for some of her nice fresh butter. The day was hot, and Jack remembering his mother's words, stuck the cabbage leaf that held the butter between his hat and the band. He was luckier this turn than the other turns, for he brought his errand safe in his hair and down along his clothes. There's no pleasing some people, however, and his mother was so vexed that she was ready to beat him.
There was so little respect for Jack's gumption in the whole village after this, that he wasn't let go to market for a fortnight. Then his mother trusted him with a pair of young fowl. "Now don't be too eager to snap at the first offer you'll get; wait for the second any way, and above all things keep your wits about you."
Jack got to the market safe.
"How do you sell them fowl, honest boy?"
My mother bid me ax three shillings for 'em, but sure herself said I wouldn't get it."
"She never said a truer word. Will you have eighteen pence?"
"In throth an' I won't; she ordhered me to wait for a second offer."
"And very wisely she acted; here is a shilling."
"Well now, I think it would be wiser to take the eighteen pence, but it is better for me at any rate to go by her bidding, and then she can't blame me."
Jack was in disgrace for three weeks after making that bargain; and some of the neighbours went so far as to say that Jack's mother didn't show much more wit than Jack himself."
She had to send him, however, next market day to sell a young sheep, and says she to him, "Jack, I'll have your life if you don't get the highest penny in the market for that baste."
"Oh, won't I!" says Jack.
Well, when he was standing in the market, up comes a jobber, and asks him what he'd take for the sheep.
"My mother won't be satisfied," says Jack, "if I don't bring her home the highest penny in the market."
"Will a guinea note do you?" says the other.
"Is it the highest penny in the market?" says Jack.
"No, but here's the highest penny in the market," says a sleeveen that was listenin', getting up on a high ladder that was restin' again' the market house. "Here's the highest penny, and the sheep is mine."
Well, if the poor mother wasn't heart-scalded this time it's no matter. She said she'd never lose more than a shilling a turn by him again while she lived; but she had to send him for some groceries next Saturday for all that, for it was Christmas eve.
"Now, Jack," says she, "I want some cinnamon, mace, and cloves, and half a pound of raisins; will you be able to think of 'em?"
"Able, indeed! I'll be repatin' 'em every inch o' the way, and that won't let me forget them."
So he never stopped as he ran along, saying "cinnamon, mace, and cloves, and half a pound of raisins;" and this time he'd have come home in glory, only he struck his foot again' a stone, and fell down, and hurt himself.
At last he got up, and as he went limping on he strove to remember his errand, but it was changed in his mind to "pitch, and tar, and turpentine, and half a yard of sacking. Pitch, and tar, and turpentine, and half a yard of sacking."
These did not help the Christmas dinner much, and his mother was so tired of minding him that she sent him along with a clever black man (matchmaker), up to the county Carlow, to get a wife to take care of him.
Well, the black man never let him open his mouth all the time the coortin' was goin' on; and at last the whole party -- his friends, and her friends, were gathered into the priest's parlour. The black man staid close to him for 'fraid he'd do a bull; and when Jack was married half a year, if he thought his life was bad enough before, he thought it ten times worse now; and told his mother if she'd send his wife back to her father, he'd never make a mistake again going to fair or market. But the wife cock-crowed over the mother as well as over Jack; and if they didn't live happy, THAT WE MAY!
A certain man died and left three sons. One was altogether a fool, another was fairly intelligent, and the third was rather clever. This being so, it was of course difficult for them to live together. In dividing the inheritance among them, the fool was cheated, and in regard to the cattle he was thus duped: There were three entrances to the pen, two open and one very narrow. The two clever brothers proposed to drive the beasts out of all three at once; those that issued from the small gap were to belong to the fool. In this way the latter's share was only one young bull out of the whole flock. But to his feeble mind the division seemed fair enough, so he contentedly drove his bull out into the forest, and tied it with a stout rope to a young tree, whilst he himself wandered aimlessly about.
Three days later, the fool went to see his beast. It had eaten and drunk nothing, but had pulled the tree up by the roots, and laid bare a jar full of old gold coins. The fool was delighted, and played with the money for a time. Then he resolved to take the jar and present it to the king. As he passed along the road, every wayfarer looked into the pot, took out the gold in handfuls, and so that he should not notice their thefts, filled it up with stones and blocks of wood. On reaching the palace, the fool asked for an audience of the king, and it was granted. He emptied out the contents of the jar at the feet of the king. When the courtiers saw the wrath of the king, they took the fool away and beat him. When he had recovered himself he asked why he had been thrashed. One of the bystanders, for fun, cried to him, "You have been beaten because you labor in vain."
The fool went his way, muttering the words, "You labor in vain." As he passed a peasant who was reaping, he repeated his phrase again and again, until the peasant grew angry, and thrashed him. The fool asked why he had been beaten, and what he ought to have said.
"You ought to have said, 'God give you a good harvest!'"
The fool went on, saying "God give you a good harvest!" and met a funeral. Again he was beaten, and again he asked what he should say.
They replied that he should have said, "Heaven rest your soul!" He then came to a wedding, and saluted the newly married couple with this funereal phrase.
Again he was beaten, and then told that he should say, "Be fruitful and multiply!"
His next visit was to a monastery, and he accosted every monk with his new salutation. They too gave him a thrashing, with such vigor that the fool determined to have his revenge by stealing of the bells from their belfry. So he hid himself until the monks had gone to rest, and then carried off a bell of moderate size.
He went into the forest, climbed a tree, and hung the bell on the branches, ringing it from time to time, partly to amuse himself and partly to frighten away wild beasts. In the forest there was a gang of robbers, who were assembled to share their booty, and had just ended a merry banquet. Suddenly they heard the sound of the bell, and were much afraid. They took counsel as to what was to be done, and most of them were for flight, but the oldest of the band advised them to send a scout to see what was wrong. The bravest among them was sent to get information, and the rest remained as quiet as possible.
The brigand went on tiptoe through the bushes to the tree where the fool was, and respectfully asked, "Who are you? If you are an angel sent by God to punish our wickedness, pray spare us and we shall repent. If you are a devil from hell, come and share with us."
The fool was not so stupid that he did not see he had to deal with robbers, so he took out a knife, tolled the bell, and then said with a grave air, "If you wish to know who I am, climb the tree and show me your tongue, so that I may mark on it who I am and what I ask of you."
The robber obediently climbed the tree, and put out his tongue as far as he could. The fool cut off his tongue, and kicked him to the ground. The robber, mad with pain, and frightened by his sudden fall, ran off howling. His comrades had come out to meet him, and when they saw the plight he was in, they ran off in terror, leaving their wealth. Next morning the fool found the booty, and without saying anything to anybody, took it home and became much richer than his brothers. The fool built three palaces: one for himself, one for me, and one for you. There is merrymaking in the fool's palace. Come and be one of the guests!
A poor widow's misery was increased by the knowledge that her son, her only son, around whom she had built up many many hopes, was a half-wit.
One day she sent him to the bazaar with some cloth and told him to sell it for four rupees. The boy went, and sat down in the most public thoroughfare of the city.
"How much do you want for that piece of cloth?" asked a man.
"Four rupees," replied the boy.
"All right. I'll give you six rupees for it. It is worth it. Here, take the money."
"No, no," said the boy. "Its price is four rupees."
"You scamp!" exclaimed the man angrily, and went on. He thought the boy was joking with him.
On reaching home in the evening he informed his mother of this incident, and she was grieved that he had not taken the money.
Another day she sent him to the bazaar, and advised him to salaam everybody, saying that nothing was ever lost by politeness, but, on the contrary, everything was sometimes gained by it. The stupid boy sallied forth, and began making salaams to everybody and everything he met -- a sweeper, a horse, some little children, a house. A number of asses, too, passed by with loads on their backs, and he said "Salaam" to them also.
"Hey! You fool! What are you doing?" said the donkey-driver in charge. "Don't you know that we say "Fri fri?" [an exclamation used for urging on donkeys], whereupon the boy commenced saying "Fri fri" to every person and thing. He passed a man who had just spread a snare for a bird that he very much wished to catch, when "Fri fri" shouted the boy, and most effectually frightened away the bird.
"You blackguard! What are you doing?" said the man. "You should say "Lag lag" in a very soft tone."
Then the boy began to say "Lag lag." He was wandering about crying "Lag lag" when he came across some thieves coming out of a garden, where they had just been stealing the fruit.
"What do you mean?" said they. "Be quiet, you fool, or say something else. Go and shout, 'Let go one and take the other.'"
So the boy did, and while he was shouting these words a funeral cortege passed by.
"Be quiet," said some of the mourners. "Have you so little respect for the dead? Get along home."
At length, disappointed and disheartened, not knowing what to do or what to say, the half-wit returned to his mother and told her everything.
Revised August 13, 2010.