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English Fairy Tales by Joseph Jacobs (coll. & ed.)

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ENGLISH FAIRY TALES

_COLLECTED BY_

JOSEPH JACOBS

_HOW TO GET INTO THIS BOOK.

Knock at the Knocker on the Door,
Pull the Bell at the side,

Then, if you are very quiet, you will hear a teeny tiny voice say
through the grating "Take down the Key." This you will find at the
back: you cannot mistake it, for it has J. J. in the wards. Put the
Key in the Keyhole, which it fits exactly, unlock the door and WALK
IN._

_TO MY DEAR LITTLE MAY_

Preface

Who says that English folk have no fairy-tales of their own? The
present volume contains only a selection out of some 140, of which I
have found traces in this country. It is probable that many more
exist.

A quarter of the tales in this volume, have been collected during the
last ten years or so, and some of them have not been hitherto
published. Up to 1870 it was equally said of France and of Italy, that
they possessed no folk-tales. Yet, within fifteen years from that
date, over 1000 tales had been collected in each country. I am hoping
that the present volume may lead to equal activity in this country,
and would earnestly beg any reader of this book who knows of similar
tales, to communicate them, written down as they are told, to me, care
of Mr. Nutt. The only reason, I imagine, why such tales have not
hitherto been brought to light, is the lamentable gap between the
governing and recording classes and the dumb working classes of this
country--dumb to others but eloquent among themselves. It would be no
unpatriotic task to help to bridge over this gulf, by giving a common
fund of nursery literature to all classes of the English people, and,
in any case, it can do no harm to add to the innocent gaiety of the
nation.

A word or two as to our title seems necessary. We have called our
stories Fairy Tales though few of them speak of fairies. [Footnote:
For some recent views on fairies and tales _about_ fairies, see
Notes.] The same remark applies to the collection of the Brothers
Grimm and to all the other European collections, which contain exactly
the same classes of tales as ours. Yet our stories are what the little
ones mean when they clamour for "Fairy Tales," and this is the only
name which they give to them. One cannot imagine a child saying, "Tell
us a folk-tale, nurse," or "Another nursery tale, please, grandma." As
our book is intended for the little ones, we have indicated its
contents by the name they use. The words "Fairy Tales" must
accordingly be taken to include tales in which occurs something
"fairy," something extraordinary--fairies, giants, dwarfs, speaking
animals. It must be taken also to cover tales in which what is
extraordinary is the stupidity of some of the actors. Many of the
tales in this volume, as in similar collections for other European
countries, are what the folklorists call Drolls. They serve to justify
the title of Merrie England, which used to be given to this country of
ours, and indicate unsuspected capacity for fun and humour among the
unlettered classes. The story of Tom Tit Tot, which opens our
collection, is unequalled among all other folk-tales I am acquainted
with, for its combined sense of humour and dramatic power.

The first adjective of our title also needs a similar extension of its
meaning. I have acted on Moliere's principle, and have taken what was
good wherever I could find it. Thus, a couple of these stories have
been found among descendants of English immigrants in America; a
couple of others I tell as I heard them myself in my youth in
Australia. One of the best was taken down from the mouth of an English
Gipsy. I have also included some stories that have only been found in
Lowland Scotch. I have felt justified in doing this, as of the twenty-
one folk-tales contained in Chambers' "Popular Rhymes of Scotland," no
less than sixteen are also to be found in an English form. With the
Folk-tale as with the Ballad, Lowland Scotch may be regarded as simply
a dialect of English, and it is a mere chance whether a tale is extant
in one or other, or both.

I have also rescued and re-told a few Fairy Tales that only exist now-
a-days in the form of ballads. There are certain indications that the
"common form" of the English Fairy Tale was the _cante-fable_, a
mixture of narrative and verse of which the most illustrious example
in literature is "Aucassin et Nicolette." In one case I have
endeavoured to retain this form, as the tale in which it occurs,
"Childe Rowland," is mentioned by Shakespeare in _King Lear_, and
is probably, as I have shown, the source of Milton's _Comus_.
Late as they have been collected, some dozen of the tales can be
traced back to the sixteenth century, two of them being quoted by
Shakespeare himself.

In the majority of instances I have had largely to rewrite these Fairy
Tales, especially those in dialect, including the Lowland Scotch.
[Footnote: It is perhaps worth remarking that the Brothers Grimm did
the same with their stories. "Dass der Ausdruck," say they in their
Preface, "und die Ausfuehrung des Einzelnen grossentheils von uns
herruehrt, versteht sich von selbst." I may add that many of their
stories were taken from printed sources. In the first volume of Mrs.
Hunt's translation, Nos. 12, 18, 19, 23, 32, 35, 42, 43, 44, 69, 77,
78, 83, 89, are thus derived.] Children, and sometimes those of larger
growth, will not read dialect. I have also had to reduce the flatulent
phraseology of the eighteenth-century chap-books, and to re-write in
simpler style the stories only extant in "Literary" English. I have,
however, left a few vulgarisms in the mouths of vulgar people.
Children appreciate the dramatic propriety of this as much as their
elders. Generally speaking, it has been my ambition to write as a good
old nurse will speak when she tells Fairy Tales. I am doubtful as to
my success in catching the colloquial-romantic tone appropriate for
such narratives, but the thing had to be done or else my main object,
to give a book of English Fairy Tales which English children will
listen to, would have been unachieved. This book is meant to be read
aloud, and not merely taken in by the eye.

In a few instances I have introduced or changed an incident. I have
never done so, however, without mentioning the fact in the Notes.
These have been relegated to the obscurity of small print and a back
place, while the little ones have been, perhaps unnecessarily, warned
off them. They indicate my sources and give a few references to
parallels and variants which may be of interest to fellow-students of
Folk-lore. It is, perhaps, not necessary to inform readers who are not
fellow-students that the study of Folk-tales has pretensions to be a
science. It has its special terminology, and its own methods of
investigation, by which it is hoped, one of these days, to gain fuller
knowledge of the workings of the popular mind as well as traces of
archaic modes of thought and custom. I hope on some future occasion to
treat the subject of the English Folk-tale on a larger scale and with
all the necessary paraphernalia of prolegomena and excursus. I shall
then, of course, reproduce my originals with literal accuracy, and
have therefore felt the more at liberty on the present occasion to
make the necessary deviations from this in order to make the tales
readable for children.

Finally, I have to thank those by whose kindness in waiving their
rights to some of these stories, I have been enabled to compile this
book. My friends Mr. E. Clodd, Mr. F. Hindes Groome, and Mr. Andrew
Lang, have thus yielded up to me some of the most attractive stories
in the following pages. The Councils of the English and of the
American Folk-lore Societies, and Messrs. Longmans, have also been
equally generous. Nor can I close these remarks without a word of
thanks and praise to the artistic skill with which my friend, Mr. J.
D. Batten, has made the romance and humour of these stories live again
in the brilliant designs with which he has adorned these pages. It
should be added that the dainty headpieces to "Henny Penny" and "Mr.
Fox" are due to my old friend, Mr. Henry Ryland.

JOSEPH JACOBS.

CONTENTS

I. TOM TIT TOT
II. THE THREE SILLIES
III. THE ROSE-TREE
IV. THE OLD WOMAN AND HER PIG
V. HOW JACK WENT TO SEEK HIS FORTUNE
VI. MR. VINEGAR
VII. NIX NOUGHT NOTHING
VIII. JACK HANNAFORD
IX. BINNORIE
X. MOUSE AND MOUSER
XI. CAP O' RUSHES
XII. TEENY-TINY
XIII. JACK AND THE BEANSTALK
XIV. THE STORY OF THE THREE LITTLE PIGS
XV. THE MASTER AND HIS PUPIL
XVI. TITTY MOUSE AND TATTY MOUSE
XVII. JACK AND HIS GOLDEN SNUFF-BOX
XVIII. THE STORY OF THE THREE BEARS
XIX. JACK THE GIANT-KILLER
XX. HENNY-PENNY
XXI. CHILDE ROWLAND
XXII. MOLLY WHUPPIE
XXIII. THE RED ETTIN
XXIV. THE GOLDEN ARM
XXV. THE HISTORY OF TOM THUMB
XXVI. MR. FOX
XXVII. LAZY JACK
XXVIII. JOHNNY-CAKE
XXIX. EARL MAR'S DAUGHTER
XXX. MR. MIACCA
XXXI. WHITTINGTON AND HIS CAT
XXXII. THE STRANGE VISITOR
XXXIII. THE LAIDLY WORM OF SPINDLESTON HEUGH
XXXIV. THE CAT AND THE MOUSE.
XXXV. THE FISH AND THE RING.
XXXVI. THE MAGPIE'S NEST
XXXVII. KATE CRACKERNUTS
XXXVIII. THE CAULD LAD OF HILTON
XXXIX. THE ASS, THE TABLE, AND THE STICK
XL. FAIRY OINTMENT
XLI. THE WELL OF THE WORLD'S END.
XLII. MASTER OF ALL MASTERS.
XLIII. THE THREE HEADS OF THE WELL

NOTES AND REFERENCES

TOM TIT TOT

Once upon a time there was a woman, and she baked five pies. And when
they came out of the oven, they were that overbaked the crusts were
too hard to eat. So she says to her daughter:

"Darter," says she, "put you them there pies on the shelf, and leave
'em there a little, and they'll come again."--She meant, you know, the
crust would get soft.

But the girl, she says to herself: "Well, if they'll come again, I'll
eat 'em now." And she set to work and ate 'em all, first and last.

Well, come supper-time the woman said: "Go you, and get one o' them
there pies. I dare say they've come again now."

The girl went and she looked, and there was nothing but the dishes. So
back she came and says she: "Noo, they ain't come again."

"Not one of 'em?" says the mother.

"Not one of 'em," says she.

"Well, come again, or not come again," said the woman "I'll have one
for supper."

"But you can't, if they ain't come," said the girl.

"But I can," says she. "Go you, and bring the best of 'em."

"Best or worst," says the girl, "I've ate 'em all, and you can't have
one till that's come again."

Well, the woman she was done, and she took her spinning to the door to
spin, and as she span she sang:

"My darter ha' ate five, five pies to-day.
My darter ha' ate five, five pies to-day."

The king was coming down the street, and he heard her sing, but what
she sang he couldn't hear, so he stopped and said:

"What was that you were singing, my good woman?"

The woman was ashamed to let him hear what her daughter had been
doing, so she sang, instead of that:

"My darter ha' spun five, five skeins to-day.
My darter ha' spun five, five skeins to-day."

"Stars o' mine!" said the king, "I never heard tell of any one that
could do that."

Then he said: "Look you here, I want a wife, and I'll marry your
daughter. But look you here," says he, "eleven months out of the year
she shall have all she likes to eat, and all the gowns she likes to
get, and all the company she likes to keep; but the last month of the
year she'll have to spin five skeins every day, and if she don't I
shall kill her."

"All right," says the woman; for she thought what a grand marriage
that was. And as for the five skeins, when the time came, there'd be
plenty of ways of getting out of it, and likeliest, he'd have
forgotten all about it.

Well, so they were married. And for eleven months the girl had all she
liked to eat, and all the gowns she liked to get, and all the company
she liked to keep.

But when the time was getting over, she began to think about the
skeins and to wonder if he had 'em in mind. But not one word did he
say about 'em, and she thought he'd wholly forgotten 'em.

However, the last day of the last month he takes her to a room she'd
never set eyes on before. There was nothing in it but a spinning-wheel
and a stool. And says he: "Now, my dear, here you'll be shut in to-
morrow with some victuals and some flax, and if you haven't spun five
skeins by the night, your head'll go off."

And away he went about his business.

Well, she was that frightened, she'd always been such a gatless girl,
that she didn't so much as know how to spin, and what was she to do
to-morrow with no one to come nigh her to help her? She sat down on a
stool in the kitchen, and law! how she did cry!

However, all of a sudden she heard a sort of a knocking low down on
the door. She upped and oped it, and what should she see but a small
little black thing with a long tail. That looked up at her right
curious, and that said:

"What are you a-crying for?"

"What's that to you?" says she.

"Never you mind," that said, "but tell me what you're a-crying for."

"That won't do me no good if I do," says she.

"You don't know that," that said, and twirled that's tail round.

"Well," says she, "that won't do no harm, if that don't do no good,"
and she upped and told about the pies, and the skeins, and everything.

"This is what I'll do," says the little black thing, "I'll come to
your window every morning and take the flax and bring it spun at
night."

"What's your pay?" says she.

That looked out of the corner of that's eyes, and that said: "I'll
give you three guesses every night to guess my name, and if you
haven't guessed it before the month's up you shall be mine."

Well, she thought she'd be sure to guess that's name before the month
was up. "All right," says she, "I agree."

"All right," that says, and law! how that twirled that's tail.

Well, the next day, her husband took her into the room, and there was
the flax and the day's food.

"Now there's the flax," says he, "and if that ain't spun up this
night, off goes your head." And then he went out and locked the door.

He'd hardly gone, when there was a knocking against the window.

She upped and she oped it, and there sure enough was the little old
thing sitting on the ledge.

"Where's the flax?" says he.

"Here it be," says she. And she gave it to him.

Well, come the evening a knocking came again to the window. She upped
and she oped it, and there was the little old thing with five skeins
of flax on his arm.

"Here it be," says he, and he gave it to her.

"Now, what's my name?" says he.

"What, is that Bill?" says she.

"Noo, that ain't," says he, and he twirled his tail.

"Is that Ned?" says she.

"Noo, that ain't," says he, and he twirled his tail.

"Well, is that Mark?" says she.

"Noo, that ain't," says he, and he twirled his tail harder, and away
he flew.

Well, when her husband came in, there were the five skeins ready for
him. "I see I shan't have to kill you to-night, my dear," says he;
"you'll have your food and your flax in the morning," says he, and
away he goes.

Well, every day the flax and the food were brought, and every day that
there little black impet used to come mornings and evenings. And all
the day the girl sat trying to think of names to say to it when it
came at night. But she never hit on the right one. And as it got
towards the end of the month, the impet began to look so maliceful,
and that twirled that's tail faster and faster each time she gave a
guess.

At last it came to the last day but one. The impet came at night along
with the five skeins, and that said,

"What, ain't you got my name yet?"

"Is that Nicodemus?" says she.

"Noo, t'ain't," that says.

"Is that Sammle?" says she.

"Noo, t'ain't," that says.

"A-well, is that Methusalem?" says she.

"Noo, t'ain't that neither," that says.

Then that looks at her with that's eyes like a coal o' fire, and that
says: "Woman, there's only to-morrow night, and then you'll be mine!"
And away it flew.

Well, she felt that horrid. However, she heard the king coming along
the passage. In he came, and when he sees the five skeins, he says,
says he,

"Well, my dear," says he, "I don't see but what you'll have your
skeins ready to-morrow night as well, and as I reckon I shan't have to
kill you, I'll have supper in here to-night." So they brought supper,
and another stool for him, and down the two sat.

Well, he hadn't eaten but a mouthful or so, when he stops and begins
to laugh.

"What is it?" says she.

"A-why," says he, "I was out a-hunting to-day, and I got away to a
place in the wood I'd never seen before And there was an old chalk-
pit. And I heard a kind of a sort of a humming. So I got off my hobby,
and I went right quiet to the pit, and I looked down. Well, what
should there be but the funniest little black thing you ever set eyes
on. And what was that doing, but that had a little spinning-wheel, and
that was spinning wonderful fast, and twirling that's tail. And as
that span that sang:

"Nimmy nimmy not
My name's Tom Tit Tot."

Well, when the girl heard this, she felt as if she could have jumped
out of her skin for joy, but she didn't say a word.

Next day that there little thing looked so maliceful when he came for
the flax. And when night came, she heard that knocking against the
window panes. She oped the window, and that come right in on the
ledge. That was grinning from ear to ear, and Oo! that's tail was
twirling round so fast.

"What's my name?" that says, as that gave her the skeins.

"Is that Solomon?" she says, pretending to be afeard.

"Noo, t'ain't," that says, and that came further into the room.

"Well, is that Zebedee?" says she again.

"Noo, t'ain't," says the impet. And then that laughed and twirled
that's tail till you couldn't hardly see it.

"Take time, woman," that says; "next guess, and you're mine." And that
stretched out that's black hands at her.

Well, she backed a step or two, and she looked at it, and then she
laughed out, and says she, pointing her finger at it:

"NIMMY NIMMY NOT, YOUR NAME'S TOM TIT TOT!"

Well, when that heard her, that gave an awful shriek and away that
flew into the dark, and she never saw it any more.

THE THREE SILLIES

Once upon a time there was a farmer and his wife who had one daughter,
and she was courted by a gentleman. Every evening he used to come and
see her, and stop to supper at the farmhouse, and the daughter used to
be sent down into the cellar to draw the beer for supper. So one
evening she had gone down to draw the beer, and she happened to look
up at the ceiling while she was drawing, and she saw a mallet stuck in
one of the beams. It must have been there a long, long time, but
somehow or other she had never noticed it before, and she began a-
thinking. And she thought it was very dangerous to have that mallet
there, for she said to herself: "Suppose him and me was to be married,
and we was to have a son, and he was to grow up to be a man, and come
down into the cellar to draw the beer, like as I'm doing now, and the
mallet was to fall on his head and kill him, what a dreadful thing it
would be!" And she put down the candle and the jug, and sat herself
down and began a-crying.

Well, they began to wonder upstairs how it was that she was so long
drawing the beer, and her mother went down to see after her, and she
found her sitting on the settle crying, and the beer running over the
floor. "Why, whatever is the matter?" said her mother. "Oh, mother!"
says she, "look at that horrid mallet! Suppose we was to be married,
and was to have a son, and he was to grow up, and was to come down to
the cellar to draw the beer, and the mallet was to fall on his head
and kill him, what a dreadful thing it would be!" "Dear, dear! what a
dreadful thing it would be!" said the mother, and she sat her down
aside of the daughter and started a-crying too. Then after a bit the
father began to wonder that they didn't come back, and he went down
into the cellar to look after them himself, and there they two sat a-
crying, and the beer running all over the floor. "Whatever is the
matter?" says he. "Why," says the mother, "look at that horrid mallet.
Just suppose, if our daughter and her sweetheart was to be married,
and was to have a son, and he was to grow up, and was to come down
into the cellar to draw the beer, and the mallet was to fall on his
head and kill him, what a dreadful thing it would be!" "Dear, dear,
dear! so it would!" said the father, and he sat himself down aside of
the other two, and started a-crying.

Now the gentleman got tired of stopping up in the kitchen by himself,
and at last he went down into the cellar too, to see what they were
after; and there they three sat a-crying side by side, and the beer
running all over the floor. And he ran straight and turned the tap.
Then he said: "Whatever are you three doing, sitting there crying, and
letting the beer run all over the floor?"

"Oh!" says the father, "look at that horrid mallet! Suppose you and
our daughter was to be married, and was to have a son, and he was to
grow up, and was to come down into the cellar to draw the beer, and
the mallet was to fall on his head and kill him!" And then they all
started a-crying worse than before. But the gentleman burst out a-
laughing, and reached up and pulled out the mallet, and then he said:
"I've travelled many miles, and I never met three such big sillies as
you three before; and now I shall start out on my travels again, and
when I can find three bigger sillies than you three, then I'll come
back and marry your daughter." So he wished them good-bye, and started
off on his travels, and left them all crying because the girl had lost
her sweetheart.

Well, he set out, and he travelled a long way, and at last he came to
a woman's cottage that had some grass growing on the roof. And the
woman was trying to get her cow to go up a ladder to the grass, and
the poor thing durst not go. So the gentleman asked the woman what she
was doing. "Why, lookye," she said, "look at all that beautiful grass.
I'm going to get the cow on to the roof to eat it. She'll be quite
safe, for I shall tie a string round her neck, and pass it down the
chimney, and tie it to my wrist as I go about the house, so she can't
fall off without my knowing it." "Oh, you poor silly!" said the
gentleman, "you should cut the grass and throw it down to the cow!"
But the woman thought it was easier to get the cow up the ladder than
to get the grass down, so she pushed her and coaxed her and got her
up, and tied a string round her neck, and passed it down the chimney,
and fastened it to her own wrist. And the gentleman went on his way,
but he hadn't gone far when the cow tumbled off the roof, and hung by
the string tied round her neck, and it strangled her. And the weight
of the cow tied to her wrist pulled the woman up the chimney, and she
stuck fast half-way and was smothered in the soot.

Well, that was one big silly.

And the gentleman went on and on, and he went to an inn to stop the
night, and they were so full at the inn that they had to put him in a
double-bedded room, and another traveller was to sleep in the other
bed. The other man was a very pleasant fellow, and they got very
friendly together; but in the morning, when they were both getting up,
the gentleman was surprised to see the other hang his trousers on the
knobs of the chest of drawers and run across the room and try to jump
into them, and he tried over and over again, and couldn't manage it;
and the gentleman wondered whatever he was doing it for. At last he
stopped and wiped his face with his handkerchief. "Oh dear," he says,
"I do think trousers are the most awkwardest kind of clothes that ever
were. I can't think who could have invented such things. It takes me
the best part of an hour to get into mine every morning, and I get so
hot! How do you manage yours?" So the gentleman burst out a-laughing,
and showed him how to put them on; and he was very much obliged to
him, and said he never should have thought of doing it that way.

So that was another big silly.

Then the gentleman went on his travels again; and he came to a
village, and outside the village there was a pond, and round the pond
was a crowd of people. And they had got rakes, and brooms, and
pitchforks, reaching into the pond; and the gentleman asked what was
the matter. "Why," they say, "matter enough! Moon's tumbled into the
pond, and we can't rake her out anyhow!" So the gentleman burst out a-
laughing, and told them to look up into the sky, and that it was only
the shadow in the water. But they wouldn't listen to him, and abused
him shamefully, and he got away as quick as he could.

So there was a whole lot of sillies bigger than them three sillies at
home. So the gentleman turned back home again and married the farmer's
daughter, and if they didn't live happy for ever after, that's nothing
to do with you or me.

THE ROSE-TREE

There was once 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 whilst
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 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 axe." So she fetched it.

"Now," said the wicked woman, "lay your head down on the billet whilst
I part your hair."

Well! she laid down her little golden head without fear; and whist!
down came the axe, and it was off. So the mother wiped the axe 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 jeweller gave the watch and chain. The bird took it in
one foot, the shoes in the other, and, after having repeated the song,
flew away 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 did what the bird wanted and away to the
tree it flew with the millstone round its neck, the red shoes in one
foot, and the gold watch and chain in the other. It 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, what fine things the
thunder has brought us!" 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.

THE OLD WOMAN AND HER PIG

An old woman was sweeping her house, and she found a little crooked
sixpence. "What," said she, "shall I do with this little sixpence? I
will go to market, and buy a little pig."

As she was coming home, she came to a stile: but the piggy wouldn't go
over the stile.

She went a little further, and she met a dog. So she said to the dog:
"Dog! bite pig; piggy won't go over the stile; and I shan't get home
to-night." But the dog wouldn't.

She went a little further, and she met a stick. So she said: "Stick!
stick! beat dog! dog won't bite pig; piggy won't get over the stile;
and I shan't get home to-night." But the stick wouldn't.

She went a little further, and she met a fire. So she said: "Fire!
fire! burn stick; stick won't beat dog; dog won't bite pig; piggy
won't get over the stile; and I shan't get home to-night." But the
fire wouldn't.

She went a little further, and she met some water. So she said:
"Water, water! quench fire; fire won't burn stick; stick won't beat
dog; dog won't bite pig; piggy won't get over the stile; and I shan't
get home to-night." But the water wouldn't.

She went a little further, and she met an ox. So she said: "Ox! ox!
drink water; water won't quench fire; fire won't burn stick; stick
won't beat dog; dog won't bite pig; piggy won't get over the stile;
and I shan't get home to-night." But the ox wouldn't.

She went a little further, and she met a butcher. So she said:
"Butcher! butcher! kill ox; ox won't drink water; water won't quench
fire; fire won't burn stick; stick won't beat dog; dog won't bite pig;
piggy won't get over the stile; and I shan't get home to-night." But
the butcher wouldn't.

She went a little further, and she met a rope. So she said: "Rope!
rope! hang butcher; butcher won't kill ox; ox won't drink water; water
won't quench fire; fire won't burn stick; stick won't beat dog; dog
won't bite pig; piggy won't get over the stile; and I shan't get home
to-night." But the rope wouldn't.

She went a little further, and she met a rat. So she said: "Rat! rat!
gnaw rope; rope won't hang butcher; butcher won't kill ox; ox won't
drink water; water won't quench fire; fire won't burn stick; stick
won't beat dog; dog won't bite pig; piggy won't get over the stile;
and I shan't get home to-night." But the rat wouldn't.

She went a little further, and she met a cat. So she said: "Cat! cat!
kill rat; rat won't gnaw rope; rope won't hang butcher; butcher won't
kill ox; ox won't drink water; water won't quench fire; fire won't
burn stick; stick won't beat dog; dog won't bite pig; piggy won't get
over the stile; and I shan't get home to-night." But the cat said to
her, "If you will go to yonder cow, and fetch me a saucer of milk, I
will kill the rat." So away went the old woman to the cow.

But the cow said to her: "If you will go to yonder hay-stack, and
fetch me a handful of hay, I'll give you the milk." So away went the
old woman to the haystack and she brought the hay to the cow.

As soon as the cow had eaten the hay, she gave the old woman the milk;
and away she went with it in a saucer to the cat.

As soon as the cat had lapped up the milk, the cat began to kill the
rat; the rat began to gnaw the rope; the rope began to hang the
butcher; the butcher began to kill the ox; the ox began to drink the
water; the water began to quench the fire; the fire began to burn the
stick; the stick began to beat the dog; the dog began to bite the pig;
the little pig in a fright jumped over the stile, and so the old woman
got home that night.

HOW JACK WENT TO SEEK HIS FORTUNE

Once on a time there was a boy named Jack, and one morning he started
to go and seek his fortune.

He hadn't gone very far before he met a cat.

"Where are you going, Jack?" said the cat.

"I am going to seek my fortune."

"May I go with you?"

"Yes," said Jack, "the more the merrier."

So on they went, jiggelty-jolt, jiggelty-jolt.

They went a little further and they met a dog.

"Where are you going, Jack?" said the dog.

"I am going to seek my fortune."

"May I go with you?"

"Yes," said Jack, "the more the merrier."

So on they went, jiggelty-jolt, jiggelty-jolt. They went a little
further and they met a goat.

"Where are you going, Jack?" said the goat.

"I am going to seek my fortune."

"May I go with you?"

"Yes," said Jack, "the more the merrier."

So on they went, jiggelty-jolt, jiggelty-jolt.

They went a little further and they met a bull.

"Where are you going, Jack?" said the bull.

"I am going to seek my fortune."

"May I go with you?"

"Yes," said Jack, "the more the merrier."

So on they went, jiggelty-jolt, jiggelty-jolt.

They went a little further and they met a rooster.

"Where are you going, Jack?" said the rooster.

"I am going to seek my fortune."

"May I go with you?"

"Yes," said Jack, "the more the merrier."

So on they went, jiggelty-jolt, jiggelty-jolt.

Well, they went on till it was about dark, and they began to think of
some place where they could spend the night. About this time they came
in sight of a house, and Jack told them to keep still while he went up
and looked in through the window. And there were some robbers counting
over their money. Then Jack went back and told them to wait till he
gave the word, and then to make all the noise they could. So when they
were all ready Jack gave the word, and the cat mewed, and the dog
barked, and the goat bleated, and the bull bellowed, and the rooster
crowed, and all together they made such a dreadful noise that it
frightened the robbers all away.

And then they went in and took possession of the house. Jack was
afraid the robbers would come back in the night, and so when it came
time to go to bed he put the cat in the rocking-chair, and he put the
dog under the table, and he put the goat upstairs, and he put the bull
down cellar, and the rooster flew up on to the roof, and Jack went to
bed.

By-and-by the robbers saw it was all dark and they sent one man back
to the house to look after their money. Before long he came back in a
great fright and told them his story.

"I went back to the house," said he, "and went in and tried to sit
down in the rocking-chair, and there was an old woman knitting, and
she stuck her knitting-needles into me." That was the cat, you know.

"I went to the table to look after the money and there was a shoemaker
under the table, and he stuck his awl into me." That was the dog, you
know.

"I started to go upstairs, and there was a man up there threshing, and
he knocked me down with his flail." That was the goat, you know.

"I started to go down cellar, and there was a man down there chopping
wood, and he knocked me up with his axe." That was the bull, you know.

"But I shouldn't have minded all that if it hadn't been for that
little fellow on top of the house, who kept a-hollering, 'Chuck him up
to me-e! Chuck him up to me-e!'" Of course that was the cock-a-doodle-
do.

MR. VINEGAR

Mr. and Mrs. Vinegar lived in a vinegar bottle. Now, one day, when Mr.
Vinegar was from home, Mrs. Vinegar, who was a very good housewife,
was busily sweeping her house, when an unlucky thump of the broom
brought the whole house clitter-clatter, clitter-clatter, about her
ears. In an agony of grief she rushed forth to meet her husband.

On seeing him she exclaimed, "Oh, Mr. Vinegar, Mr. Vinegar, we are
ruined, I have knocked the house down, and it is all to pieces!" Mr.
Vinegar then said: "My dear, let us see what can be done. Here is the
door; I will take it on my back, and we will go forth to seek our
fortune."

They walked all that day, and at nightfall entered a thick forest.
They were both very, very tired, and Mr. Vinegar said: "My love, I
will climb up into a tree, drag up the door, and you shall follow." He
accordingly did so, and they both stretched their weary limbs on the
door, and fell fast asleep.

In the middle of the night Mr. Vinegar was disturbed by the sound of
voices underneath, and to his horror and dismay found that it was a
band of thieves met to divide their booty.

"Here, Jack," said one, "here's five pounds for you; here, Bill,
here's ten pounds for you; here, Bob, here's three pounds for you."

Mr. Vinegar could listen no longer; his terror was so great that he
trembled and trembled, and shook down the door on their heads. Away
scampered the thieves, but Mr. Vinegar dared not quit his retreat till
broad daylight.

He then scrambled out of the tree, and went to lift up the door. What
did he see but a number of golden guineas. "Come down, Mrs. Vinegar,"
he cried; "come down, I say; our fortune's made, our fortune's made!
Come down, I say."

Mrs. Vinegar got down as fast as she could, and when she saw the money
she jumped for joy. "Now, my dear," said she, "I'll tell you what you
shall do. There is a fair at the neighbouring town; you shall take
these forty guineas and buy a cow. I can make butter and cheese, which
you shall sell at market, and we shall then be able to live very
comfortably."

Mr. Vinegar joyfully agrees, takes the money, and off he goes to the
fair. When he arrived, he walked up and down, and at length saw a
beautiful red cow. It was an excellent milker, and perfect in every
way. "Oh," thought Mr. Vinegar, "if I had but that cow, I should be
the happiest, man alive."

So he offers the forty guineas for the cow, and the owner said that,
as he was a friend, he'd oblige him. So the bargain was made, and he
got the cow and he drove it backwards and forwards to show it.

By-and-by he saw a man playing the bagpipes--Tweedle-dum tweedle-dee.
The children followed him about, and he appeared to be pocketing money
on all sides. "Well," thought Mr. Vinegar, "if I had but that
beautiful instrument I should be the happiest man alive--my fortune
would be made."

So he went up to the man. "Friend," says he, "what a beautiful
instrument that is, and what a deal of money you must make." "Why,
yes," said the man, "I make a great deal of money, to be sure, and it
is a wonderful instrument." "Oh!" cried Mr. Vinegar, "how I should
like to possess it!" "Well," said the man, "as you are a friend, I
don't much mind parting with it; you shall have it for that red cow."
"Done!" said the delighted Mr. Vinegar. So the beautiful red cow was
given for the bagpipes.

He walked up and down with his purchase; but it was in vain he tried
to play a tune, and instead of pocketing pence, the boys followed him
hooting, laughing, and pelting.

Poor Mr. Vinegar, his fingers grew very cold, and, just as he was
leaving the town, he met a man with a fine thick pair of gloves. "Oh,
my fingers are so very cold," said Mr. Vinegar to himself. "Now if I
had but those beautiful gloves I should be the happiest man alive." He
went up to the man, and said to him, "Friend, you seem to have a
capital pair of gloves there." "Yes, truly," cried the man; "and my
hands are as warm as possible this cold November day." "Well," said
Mr. Vinegar, "I should like to have them.". "What will you give?" said
the man; "as you are a friend, I don't much mind letting you have them
for those bagpipes." "Done!" cried Mr. Vinegar. He put on the gloves,
and felt perfectly happy as he trudged homewards.

At last he grew very tired, when he saw a man coming towards him with
a good stout stick in his hand.

"Oh," said Mr. Vinegar, "that I had but that stick! I should then be
the happiest man alive." He said to the man: "Friend! what a rare good
stick you have got." "Yes," said the man; "I have used it for many a
long mile, and a good friend it has been; but if you have a fancy for
it, as you are a friend, I don't mind giving it to you for that pair
of gloves." Mr. Vinegar's hands were so warm, and his legs so tired,
that he gladly made the exchange.

As he drew near to the wood where he had left his wife, he heard a
parrot on a tree calling out his name: "Mr. Vinegar, you foolish man,
you blockhead, you simpleton; you went to the fair, and laid out all
your money in buying a cow. Not content with that, you changed it for
bagpipes, on which you could not play, and which were not worth one-
tenth of the money. You fool, you--you had no sooner got the bagpipes
than you changed them for the gloves, which were not worth one-quarter
of the money; and when you had got the gloves, you changed them for a
poor miserable stick; and now for your forty guineas, cow, bagpipes,
and gloves, you have nothing to show but that poor miserable stick,
which you might have cut in any hedge." On this the bird laughed and
laughed, and Mr. Vinegar, falling into a violent rage, threw the stick
at its head. The stick lodged in the tree, and he returned to his wife
without money, cow, bagpipes, gloves, or stick, and she instantly gave
him such a sound cudgelling that she almost broke every bone in his
skin.

NIX NOUGHT NOTHING

There once lived a king and a queen as many a one has been. They were
long married and had no children; but at last a baby-boy came to the
queen when the king was away in the far countries. The queen would not
christen the boy till the king came back, and she said, "We will just
call him _Nix Nought Nothing_ until his father comes home." But
it was long before he came home, and the boy had grown a nice little
laddie. At length the king was on his way back; but he had a big river
to cross, and there was a whirlpool, and he could not get over the
water. But a giant came up to him, and said "I'll carry you over." But
the king said: "What's your pay?" "O give me Nix, Nought, Nothing, and
I will carry you over the water on my back." The king had never heard
that his son was called Nix Nought Nothing, and so he said: "O, I'll
give you that and my thanks into the bargain." When the king got home
again, he was very happy to see his wife again, and his young son. She
told him that she had not given the child any name, but just Nix
Nought Nothing, until he should come home again himself. The poor king
was in a terrible case. He said: "What have I done? I promised to give
the giant who carried me over the river on his back, Nix Nought
Nothing." The king and the queen were sad and sorry, but they said:
"When the giant comes we will give him the hen-wife's boy; he will
never know the difference." The next day the giant came to claim the
king's promise, and he sent for the hen-wife's boy; and the giant went
away with the boy on his back. He travelled till he came to a big
stone, and there he sat down to rest. He said,

"Hidge, Hodge, on my back, what time of day is that?"

The poor little boy said: "It is the time that my mother, the hen-
wife, takes up the eggs for the queen's breakfast."

The Giant was very angry, and dashed the boy's head on the stone and
killed him.

So he went back in a tower of a temper and this time they gave him the
gardener's boy. He went off with him on his back till they got to the
stone again when the giant sat down to rest. And he said:

"Hidge, Hodge, on my back, what time of day do you make that?"

The gardener's boy said: "Sure it's the time that my mother takes up
the vegetables for the queen's dinner." Then the giant was right wild
and dashed his brains out on the stone.

Then the giant went back to the king's house in a terrible temper and
said he would destroy them all if they did not give him Nix Nought
Nothing this time. They had to do it; and when he came to the big
stone, the giant said: "What time of day is that?" Nix Nought Nothing
said: "It is the time that my father the king will be sitting down to
supper." The giant said: "I've got the right one now;" and took Nix
Nought Nothing to his own house and brought him up till he was a man.

The giant had a bonny daughter, and she and the lad grew very fond of
each other. The giant said one day to Nix Nought Nothing: "I've work
for you to-morrow. There is a stable seven miles long and seven miles
broad, and it has not been cleaned for seven years, and you must clean
it to-morrow, or I will have you for my supper."

The giant's daughter went out next morning with the lad's breakfast,
and found him in a terrible state, for always as he cleaned out a bit,
it just fell in again. The giant's daughter said she would help him,
and she cried all the beasts in the field, and all the fowls of the
air, and in a minute they all came, and carried away everything that
was in the stable and made it all clean before the giant came home. He
said: "Shame on the wit that helped you; but I have a worse job for
you to-morrow." Then he said to Nix Nought Nothing: "There's a lake
seven miles long, and seven miles deep, and seven miles broad, and you
must drain it to-morrow by nightfall, or else I'll have you for my
supper." Nix Nought Nothing began early next morning and tried to lave
the water with his pail, but the lake was never getting any less, and
he didn't know what to do; but the giant's daughter called on all the
fish in the sea to come and drink the water, and very soon they drank
it dry. When the giant saw the work done he was in a rage, and said:
"I've a worse job for you to-morrow; there is a tree, seven miles
high, and no branch on it, till you get to the top, and there is a
nest with seven eggs in it, and you must bring down all the eggs
without breaking one, or else I'll have you for my supper." At first
the giant's daughter did not know how to help Nix Nought Nothing; but
she cut off first her fingers and then her toes, and made steps of
them, and he clomb the tree and got all the eggs safe till he came
just to the bottom, and then one was broken. So they determined to run
away together and after the giant's daughter had tidied up her hair a
bit and got her magic flask they set out together as fast as they
could run. And they hadn't got but three fields away when they looked
back and saw the giant walking along at top speed after them. "Quick,
quick," called out the giant's daughter, "take my comb from my hair
and throw it down." Nix Nought Nothing took her comb from her hair and
threw it down, and out of every one of its prongs there sprung up a
fine thick briar in the way of the giant. You may be sure it took him
a long time to work his way through the briar bush and by the time he
was well through Nix Nought Nothing and his sweetheart had run on a
tidy step away from him. But he soon came along after them and was
just like to catch 'em up when the giant's daughter called out to Nix
Nought Nothing, "Take my hair dagger and throw it down, quick, quick."
So Nix Nought Nothing threw down the hair dagger and out of it grew as
quick as lightning a thick hedge of sharp razors placed criss-cross.
The giant had to tread very cautiously to get through all this and
meanwhile the young lovers ran on, and on, and on, till they were
nearly out of sight. But at last the giant was through, and it wasn't
long before he was like to catch them up. But just as he was
stretching out his hand to catch Nix Nought Nothing his daughter took
out her magic flask and dashed it on the ground. And as it broke out
of it welled a big, big wave that grew, and that grew, till it reached
the giant's waist and then his neck, and when it got to his head, he
was drowned dead, and dead, and dead indeed. So he goes out of the
story.

But Nix Nought Nothing fled on till where do you think they came to?
Why, to near the castle of Nix Nought Nothing's father and mother. But
the giant's daughter was so weary that she couldn't move a step
further. So Nix Nought Nothing told her to wait there while he went
and found out a lodging for the night. And he went on towards the
lights of the castle, and on the way he came to the cottage of the
hen-wife whose boy had had his brains dashed out by the giant. Now she
knew Nix Nought Nothing in a moment, and hated him because he was the
cause of her son's death. So when he asked his way to the castle she
put a spell upon him, and when he got to the castle, no sooner was he
let in than he fell down dead asleep upon a bench in the hall. The
king and queen tried all they could do to wake him up, but all in
vain. So the king promised that if any lady could wake him up she
should marry him. Meanwhile the giant's daughter was waiting and
waiting for him to come back. And she went up into a tree to watch for
him. The gardener's daughter, going to draw water in the well, saw the
shadow of the lady in the water and thought it was herself, and said;
"If I'm so bonny, if I'm so brave, why do you send me to draw water?"
So she threw down her pail and went to see if she could wed the
sleeping stranger. And she went to the hen-wife, who taught her an
unspelling catch which would keep Nix Nought Nothing awake as long as
the gardener's daughter liked. So she went up to the castle and sang
her catch and Nix Nought Nothing was wakened for a bit and they
promised to wed him to the gardener's daughter. Meanwhile the gardener
went down to draw water from the well and saw the shadow of the lady
in the water. So he looks up and finds her, and he brought the lady
from the tree, and led her into his house. And he told her that a
stranger was to marry his daughter, and took her up to the castle and
showed her the man: and it was Nix Nought Nothing asleep in a chair.
And she saw him, and cried to him: "Waken, waken, and speak to me!"
But he would not waken, and soon she cried:

"I cleaned the stable, I laved the lake, and I clomb the tree,
And all for the love of thee,
And thou wilt not waken and speak to me."

The king and the queen heard this, and came to the bonny young lady,
and she said:

"I cannot get Nix Nought Nothing to speak to me for all that I can
do."

Then were they greatly astonished when she spoke of Nix Nought
Nothing, and asked where he was, and she said: "He that sits there in
the chair." Then they ran to him and kissed him and called him their
own dear son; so they called for the gardener's daughter and made her
sing her charm, and he wakened, and told them all that the giant's
daughter had done for him, and of all her kindness. Then they took her
in their arms and kissed her, and said she should now be their
daughter, for their son should marry her. But they sent for the hen-
wife and put her to death. And they lived happy all their days.

JACK HANNAFORD

There was an old soldier who had been long in the wars--so long, that
he was quite out-at-elbows, and he did not know where to go to find a
living. So he walked up moors, down glens, till at last he came to a
farm, from which the good man had gone away to market. The wife of the
farmer was a very foolish woman, who had been a widow when he married
her; the farmer was foolish enough, too, and it is hard to say which
of the two was the more foolish. When you've heard my tale you may
decide.

Now before the farmer goes to market says he to his wife: "Here is ten
pounds all in gold, take care of it till I come home." If the man had
not been a fool he would never have given the money to his wife to
keep. Well, off he went in his cart to market, and the wife said to
herself: "I will keep the ten pounds quite safe from thieves;" so she
tied it up in a rag, and she put the rag up the parlour chimney.

"There," said she, "no thieves will ever find it now, that is quite
sure."

Jack Hannaford, the old soldier, came and rapped at the door.

"Who is there?" asked the wife.

"Jack Hannaford."

"Where do you come from?"

"Paradise."

"Lord a' mercy! and maybe you've seen my old man there," alluding to
her former husband.

"Yes, I have."

"And how was he a-doing?" asked the goody.

"But middling; he cobbles old shoes, and he has nothing but cabbage
for victuals."

"Deary me!" exclaimed the woman. "Didn't he send a message to me?"

"Yes, he did," replied Jack Hannaford. "He said that he was out of
leather, and his pockets were empty, so you were to send him a few
shillings to buy a fresh stock of leather."

"He shall have them, bless his poor soul!" And away went the wife to
the parlour chimney, and she pulled the rag with the ten pounds in it
from the chimney, and she gave the whole sum to the soldier, telling
him that her old man was to use as much as he wanted, and to send back
the rest.

It was not long that Jack waited after receiving the money; he went
off as fast as he could walk.

Presently the farmer came home and asked for his money. The wife told
him that she had sent it by a soldier to her former husband in
Paradise, to buy him leather for cobbling the shoes of the saints and
angels of Heaven. The farmer was very angry, and he swore that he had
never met with such a fool as his wife. But the wife said that her
husband was a greater fool for letting her have the money.

There was no time to waste words; so the farmer mounted his horse and
rode off after Jack Hannaford. The old soldier heard the horse's hoofs
clattering on the road behind him, so he knew it must be the farmer
pursuing him. He lay down on the ground, and shading his eyes with one
hand, looked up into the sky, and pointed heavenwards with the other
hand.

"What are you about there?" asked the farmer, pulling up.

"Lord save you!" exclaimed Jack: "I've seen a rare sight."

"What was that?"

"A man going straight up into the sky, as if he were walking on a
road."

"Can you see him still?"

"Yes, I can."

"Where?"

"Get off your horse and lie down."

"If you will hold the horse."

Jack did so readily.

"I cannot see him," said the farmer.

"Shade your eyes with your hand, and you'll soon see a man flying away
from you."

Sure enough he did so, for Jack leaped on the horse, and rode away
with it. The farmer walked home without his horse.

"You are a bigger fool than I am," said the wife; "for I did only one
foolish thing, and you have done two."

BINNORIE

Once upon a time there were two king's daughters lived in a bower near
the bonny mill-dams of Binnorie. And Sir William came wooing the
eldest and won her love and plighted troth with glove and with ring.
But after a time he looked upon the youngest, with her cherry cheeks
and golden hair, and his love grew towards her till he cared no longer
for the eldest one. So she hated her sister for taking away Sir
William's love, and day by day her hate grew upon her, and she plotted
and she planned how to get rid of her.

So one fine morning, fair and clear, she said to her sister, "Let us
go and see our father's boats come in at the bonny mill-stream of
Binnorie." So they went there hand in hand. And when they got to the
river's bank the youngest got upon a stone to watch for the coming of
the boats. And her sister, coming behind her, caught her round the
waist and dashed her into the rushing mill-stream of Binnorie.

"O sister, sister, reach me your hand!" she cried, as she floated
away, "and you shall have half of all I've got or shall get."

"No, sister, I'll reach you no hand of mine, for I am the heir to all
your land. Shame on me if I touch the hand that has come 'twixt me and
my own heart's love."

"O sister, O sister, then reach me your glove!" she cried, as she
floated further away, "and you shall have your William again."

"Sink on," cried the cruel princess, "no hand or glove of mine you'll
touch. Sweet William will be all mine when you are sunk beneath the
bonny mill-stream of Binnorie." And she turned and went home to the
king's castle.

And the princess floated down the mill-stream, sometimes swimming and
sometimes sinking, till she came near the mill. Now the miller's
daughter was cooking that day, and needed water for her cooking. And
as she went to draw it from the stream, she saw something floating
towards the mill-dam, and she called out, "Father! father! draw your
dam. There's something white--a merry maid or a milk-white swan--
coming down the stream." So the miller hastened to the dam and stopped
the heavy cruel mill-wheels. And then they took out the princess and
laid her on the bank.

Fair and beautiful she looked as she lay there. In her golden hair
were pearls and precious stones; you could not see her waist for her
golden girdle; and the golden fringe of her white dress came down over
her lily feet. But she was drowned, drowned!

And as she lay there in her beauty a famous harper passed by the mill-
dam of Binnorie, and saw her sweet pale face. And though he travelled
on far away he never forgot that face, and after many days he came
back to the bonny mill-stream of Binnorie. But then all he could find
of her where they had put her to rest were her bones and her golden
hair. So he made a harp out of her breast-bone and her hair, and
travelled on up the hill from the mill-dam of Binnorie, till he came
to the castle of the king her father.

That night they were all gathered in the castle hall to hear the great
harper--king and queen, their daughter and son, Sir William and all
their Court. And first the harper sang to his old harp, making them
joy and be glad or sorrow and weep just as he liked. But while he sang
he put the harp he had made that day on a stone in the hall. And
presently it began to sing by itself, low and clear, and the harper
stopped and all were hushed.

And this was what the harp sung:

"O yonder sits my father, the king,
Binnorie, O Binnorie;
And yonder sits my mother, the queen;
By the bonny mill-dams o' Binnorie,

"And yonder stands my brother Hugh,
Binnorie, O Binnorie;
And by him, my William, false and true;
By the bonny mill-dams o' Binnorie."

Then they all wondered, and the harper told them how he had seen the
princess lying drowned on the bank near the bonny mill-dams o'
Binnorie, and how he had afterwards made this harp out of her hair and
breast-bone. Just then the harp began singing again, and this was what
it sang out loud and clear:

"And there sits my sister who drowned me
By the bonny mill-dams o' Binnorie."

And the harp snapped and broke, and never sang more.

MOUSE AND MOUSER

The Mouse went to visit the Cat, and found her sitting behind the hall
door, spinning.

MOUSE. What are you doing, my lady, my lady, What are you doing, my
lady?

CAT (_sharply_). I'm spinning old breeches, good body, good body
I'm spinning old breeches, good body.

MOUSE. Long may you wear them, my lady, my lady, Long may you wear
them, my lady.

CAT (_gruffly_). I'll wear' em and tear 'em, good body, good
body. I'll wear 'em and tear 'em, good body.

MOUSE. I was sweeping my room, my lady, my lady, I was sweeping my
room, my lady.

CAT. The cleaner you'd be, good body, good body, The cleaner you'd be,
good body.

MOUSE. I found a silver sixpence, my lady, my lady, I found a silver
sixpence, my lady.

CAT. The richer you were, good body, good body, The richer you were,
good body.

MOUSE. I went to the market, my lady, my lady, I went to the market,
my lady.

CAT. The further you went, good body, good body The further you went,
good body.

MOUSE. I bought me a pudding, my lady, my lady, I bought me a pudding,
my lady.

CAT (_snarling_). The more meat you had, good body, good body,
The more meat you had, good body.

MOUSE. I put it in the window to cool, my lady, I put it in the window
to cool.

CAT. (_sharply_). The faster you'd eat it, good body, good body,
The faster you'd eat it, good body.

MOUSE (_timidly_). The cat came and ate it, my lady, my lady, The
cat came and ate it, my lady.

CAT (_pouncingly_). And I'll eat you, good body, good body, And
I'll eat you, good body.

(_Springs upon the mouse and kills it._)

CAP O' RUSHES

Well, there was once a very rich gentleman, and he'd three daughters,
and he thought he'd see how fond they were of him. So he says to the
first, "How much do you love me, my dear?"

"Why," says she, "as I love my life."

"That's good," says he.

So he says to the second, "How much do _you_ love me, my dear?"

"Why," says she, "better nor all the world."

"That's good," says he.

So he says to the third, "How much do _you_ love me, my dear?"

"Why, I love you as fresh meat loves salt," says she.

Well, he was that angry. "You don't love me at all," says he, "and in
my house you stay no more." So he drove her out there and then, and
shut the door in her face.

Well, she went away on and on till she came to a fen, and there she
gathered a lot of rushes and made them into a kind of a sort of a
cloak with a hood, to cover her from head to foot, and to hide her
fine clothes. And then she went on and on till she came to a great
house.

"Do you want a maid?" says she.

"No, we don't," said they.

"I haven't nowhere to go," says she; "and I ask no wages, and do any
sort of work," says she.

"Well," says they, "if you like to wash the pots and scrape the
saucepans you may stay," said they.

So she stayed there and washed the pots and scraped the saucepans and
did all the dirty work. And because she gave no name they called her
"Cap o' Rushes."

Well, one day there was to be a great dance a little way off, and the
servants were allowed to go and look on at the grand people. Cap o'
Rushes said she was too tired to go, so she stayed at home.

But when they were gone she offed with her cap o' rushes, and cleaned
herself, and went to the dance. And no one there was so finely dressed
as her.

Well, who should be there but her master's son, and what should he do
but fall in love with her the minute he set eyes on her. He wouldn't
dance with any one else.

But before the dance was done Cap o' Rushes slipt off, and away she
went home. And when the other maids came back she was pretending to be
asleep with her cap o' rushes on.

Well, next morning they said to her, "You did miss a sight, Cap o'
Rushes!"

"What was that?" says she.

"Why, the beautifullest lady you ever see, dressed right gay and ga'.
The young master, he never took his eyes off her."

"Well, I should have liked to have seen her," says Cap o' Rushes.

"Well, there's to be another dance this evening, and perhaps she'll be
there."

But, come the evening, Cap o' Rushes said she was too tired to go with
them. Howsoever, when they were gone, she offed with her cap o' rushes
and cleaned herself, and away she went to the dance.

The master's son had been reckoning on seeing her, and he danced with
no one else, and never took his eyes off her. But, before the dance
was over, she slipt off, and home she went, and when the maids came
back she, pretended to be asleep with her cap o' rushes on.

Next day they said to her again, "Well, Cap o' Rushes, you should ha'
been there to see the lady. There she was again, gay and ga', and the
young master he never took his eyes off her."

"Well, there," says she, "I should ha' liked to ha' seen her."

"Well," says they, "there's a dance again this evening, and you must
go with us, for she's sure to be there."

Well, come this evening, Cap o' Rushes said she was too tired to go,
and do what they would she stayed at home. But when they were gone she
offed with her cap o' rushes and cleaned herself, and away she went to
the dance.

The master's son was rarely glad when he saw her. He danced with none
but her and never took his eyes off her. When she wouldn't tell him
her name, nor where she came from, he gave her a ring and told her if
he didn't see her again he should die.

Well, before the dance was over, off she slipped, and home she went,
and when the maids came home she was pretending to be asleep with her
cap o' rushes on.

Well, next day they says to her, "There, Cap o' Rushes, you didn't
come last night, and now you won't see the lady, for there's no more
dances."

"Well I should have rarely liked to have seen her," says she.

The master's son he tried every way to find out where the lady was
gone, but go where he might, and ask whom he might, he never heard
anything about her. And he got worse and worse for the love of her
till he had to keep his bed.

"Make some gruel for the young master," they said to the cook. "He's
dying for the love of the lady." The cook she set about making it when
Cap o' Rushes came in.

"What are you a-doing of?", says she.

"I'm going to make some gruel for the young master," says the cook,
"for he's dying for love of the lady."

"Let me make it," says Cap o' Rushes.

Well, the cook wouldn't at first, but at last she said yes, and Cap o'
Rushes made the gruel. And when she had made it she slipped the ring
into it on the sly before the cook took it upstairs.

The young man he drank it and then he saw the ring at the bottom.

"Send for the cook," says he.

So up she comes.

"Who made this gruel here?" says he.

"I did," says the cook, for she was frightened.

And he looked at her,

"No, you didn't," says he. "Say who did it, and you shan't be harmed."

"Well, then, 'twas Cap o' Rushes," says she.

"Send Cap o' Rushes here," says he.

So Cap o' Rushes came.

"Did you make my gruel?" says he.

"Yes, I did," says she.

"Where did you get this ring?" says he.

"From him that gave it me," says she.

"Who are you, then?" says the young man.

"I'll show you," says she. And she offed with her cap o' rushes, and
there she was in her beautiful clothes.

Well, the master's son he got well very soon, and they were to be
married in a little time. It was to be a very grand wedding, and every
one was asked far and near. And Cap o' Rushes' father was asked. But
she never told anybody who she was.

But before the wedding she went to the cook, and says she:

"I want you to dress every dish without a mite o' salt."

"That'll be rare nasty," says the cook.

"That doesn't signify," says she.

"Very well," says the cook.

Well, the wedding-day came, and they were married. And after they were
married all the company sat down to the dinner. When they began to eat
the meat, that was so tasteless they couldn't eat it. But Cap o'
Rushes' father he tried first one dish and then another, and then he
burst out crying.

"What is the matter?" said the master's son to him.

"Oh!" says he, "I had a daughter. And I asked her how much she loved
me. And she said 'As much as fresh meat loves salt.' And I turned her
from my door, for I thought she didn't love me. And now I see she
loved me best of all. And she may be dead for aught I know."

"No, father, here she is!" says Cap o' Rushes. And she goes up to him
and puts her arms round him.

And so they were happy ever after.

TEENY-TINY

Once upon a time there was a teeny-tiny woman lived in a teeny-tiny
house in a teeny-tiny village. Now, one day this teeny-tiny woman put
on her teeny-tiny bonnet, and went out of her teeny-tiny house to take
a teeny-tiny walk. And when this teeny-tiny woman had gone a teeny-
tiny way she came to a teeny-tiny gate; so the teeny-tiny woman opened
the teeny-tiny gate, and went into a teeny-tiny churchyard. And when
this teeny-tiny woman had got into the teeny-tiny churchyard, she saw
a teeny-tiny bone on a teeny-tiny grave, and the teeny-tiny woman said
to her teeny-tiny self, "This teeny-tiny bone will make me some teeny-
tiny soup for my teeny-tiny supper." So the teeny-tiny woman put the
teeny-tiny bone into her teeny-tiny pocket, and went home to her
teeny-tiny house.

Now when the teeny-tiny woman got home to her teeny-tiny house she was
a teeny-tiny bit tired; so she went up her teeny-tiny stairs to her
teeny-tiny bed, and put the teeny-tiny bone into a teeny-tiny
cupboard. And when this teeny-tiny woman had been to sleep a teeny-
tiny time, she was awakened by a teeny-tiny voice from the teeny-tiny
cupboard, which said:

"Give me my bone!"

And this teeny-tiny woman was a teeny-tiny frightened, so she hid her
teeny-tiny head under the teeny-tiny clothes and went to sleep again.
And when she had been to sleep again a teeny-tiny time, the teeny-tiny
voice again cried out from the teeny-tiny cupboard a teeny-tiny
louder, "Give me my bone!"

This made the teeny-tiny woman a teeny-tiny more frightened, so she
hid her teeny-tiny head a teeny-tiny further under the teeny-tiny
clothes. And when the teeny-tiny woman had been to sleep again a
teeny-tiny time, the teeny-tiny voice from the teeny-tiny cupboard
said again a teeny-tiny louder,

"Give me my bone!"

And this teeny-tiny woman was a teeny-tiny bit more frightened, but
she put her teeny-tiny head out of the teeny-tiny clothes, and said in
her loudest teeny-tiny voice, "TAKE IT!"

JACK AND THE BEANSTALK

There was once upon a time a poor widow who had an only son named
Jack, and a cow named Milky-white. And all they had to live on was the
milk the cow gave every morning which they carried to the market and
sold. But one morning Milky-white gave no milk and they didn't know
what to do.

"What shall we do, what shall we do?" said the widow, wringing her
hands.

"Cheer up, mother, I'll go and get work somewhere," said Jack.

"We've tried that before, and nobody would take you," said his mother;
"we must sell Milky-white and with the money do something, start shop,
or something."

"All right, mother," says Jack; "it's market-day today, and I'll soon
sell Milky-white, and then we'll see what we can do."

So he took the cow's halter in his hand, and off he starts. He hadn't
gone far when he met a funny-looking old man who said to him: "Good
morning, Jack."

"Good morning to you," said Jack, and wondered how he knew his name.

"Well, Jack, and where are you off to?" said the man.

"I'm going to market to sell our cow here."

"Oh, you look the proper sort of chap to sell cows," said the man; "I
wonder if you know how many beans make five."

"Two in each hand and one in your mouth," says Jack, as sharp as a
needle.

"Right you are," said the man, "and here they are the very beans
themselves," he went on pulling out of his pocket a number of strange-
looking beans. "As you are so sharp," says he, "I don't mind doing a
swop with you--your cow for these beans."

"Walker!" says Jack; "wouldn't you like it?"

"Ah! you don't know what these beans are," said the man; "if you plant
them over-night, by morning they grow right up to the sky."

"Really?" says Jack; "you don't say so."

"Yes, that is so, and if it doesn't turn out to be true you can have
your cow back."

"Right," says Jack, and hands him over Milky-white's halter and
pockets the beans.

Back goes Jack home, and as he hadn't gone very far it wasn't dusk by
the time he got to his door.

"What back, Jack?" said his mother; "I see you haven't got Milky-
white, so you've sold her. How much did you get for her?"

"You'll never guess, mother," says Jack.

"No, you don't say so. Good boy! Five pounds, ten, fifteen, no, it
can't be twenty."

"I told you you couldn't guess, what do you say to these beans;
they're magical, plant them over-night and----"

"What!" says Jack's mother, "have you been such a fool, such a dolt,
such an idiot, as to give away my Milky-white, the best milker in the
parish, and prime beef to boot, for a set of paltry beans. Take that!
Take that! Take that! And as for your precious beans here they go out
of the window. And now off with you to bed. Not a sup shall you drink,
and not a bit shall you swallow this very night."

So Jack went upstairs to his little room in the attic, and sad and
sorry he was, to be sure, as much for his mother's sake, as for the
loss of his supper.

At last he dropped off to sleep.

When he woke up, the room looked so funny. The sun was shining into
part of it, and yet all the rest was quite dark and shady. So Jack
jumped up and dressed himself and went to the window. And what do you
think he saw? why, the beans his mother had thrown out of the window
into the garden, had sprung up into a big beanstalk which went up and
up and up till it reached the sky. So the man spoke truth after all.

The beanstalk grew up quite close past Jack's window, so all he had to
do was to open it and give a jump on to the beanstalk which was made
like a big plaited ladder. So Jack climbed and he climbed and he
climbed and he climbed and he climbed and he climbed and he climbed
till at last he reached the sky. And when he got there he found a long
broad road going as straight as a dart. So he walked along and he
walked along and he walked along till he came to a great big tall
house, and on the doorstep there was a great big tall woman.

"Good morning, mum," says Jack, quite polite-like. "Could you be so
kind as to give me some breakfast." For he hadn't had anything to eat,
you know, the night before and was as hungry as a hunter.

"It's breakfast you want, is it?" says the great big tall woman, "it's
breakfast you'll be if you don't move off from here. My man is an ogre
and there's nothing he likes better than boys broiled on toast. You'd
better be moving on or he'll soon be coming."

"Oh! please mum, do give me something to eat, mum. I've had nothing to
eat since yesterday morning, really and truly, mum," says Jack. "I may
as well be broiled, as die of hunger."

Well, the ogre's wife wasn't such a bad sort, after all. So she took
Jack into the kitchen, and gave him a junk of bread and cheese and a
jug of milk. But Jack hadn't half finished these when thump! thump!
thump! the whole house began to tremble with the noise of someone
coming.

"Goodness gracious me! It's my old man," said the ogre's wife, "what
on earth shall I do? Here, come quick and jump in here." And she
bundled Jack into the oven just as the ogre came in.

He was a big one, to be sure. At his belt he had three calves strung
up by the heels, and he unhooked them and threw them down on the table
and said: "Here, wife, broil me a couple of these for breakfast. Ah
what's this I smell?

Fee-fi-fo-fum,
I smell the blood of an Englishman,
Be he alive, or be he dead
I'll have his bones to grind my bread."

"Nonsense, dear," said his wife, "you're dreaming. Or perhaps you
smell the scraps of that little boy you liked so much for yesterday's
dinner. Here, go you and have a wash and tidy up, and by the time you
come back your breakfast'll be ready for you."

So the ogre went off, and Jack was just going to jump out of the oven
and run off when the woman told him not. "Wait till he's asleep," says
she; "he always has a snooze after breakfast."

Well, the ogre had his breakfast, and after that he goes to a big
chest and takes out of it a couple of bags of gold and sits down
counting them till at last his head began to nod and he began to snore
till the whole house shook again.

Then Jack crept out on tiptoe from his oven, and as he was passing the
ogre he took one of the bags of gold under his arm, and off he pelters
till he came to the beanstalk, and then he threw down the bag of gold
which of course fell in to his mother's garden, and then he climbed
down and climbed down till at last he got home and told his mother and
showed her the gold and said: "Well, mother, wasn't I right about the
beans. They are really magical, you see."

So they lived on the bag of gold for some time, but at last they came
to the end of that so Jack made up his mind to try his luck once more
up at the top of the beanstalk. So one fine morning he got up early,
and got on to the beanstalk, and he climbed and he climbed and he
climbed and he climbed and he climbed and he climbed till at last he
got on the road again and came to the great big tall house he had been
to before. There, sure enough, was the great big tall woman a-standing
on the door-step.

"Good morning, mum," says Jack, as bold as brass, "could you be so
good as to give me something to eat?"

"Go away, my boy," said the big, tall woman, "or else my man will eat
you up for breakfast. But aren't you the youngster who came here once
before? Do you know, that very day, my man missed one of his bags of
gold."

"That's strange, mum," says Jack, "I dare say I could tell you
something about that but I'm so hungry I can't speak till I've had
something to eat."

Well the big tall woman was that curious that she took him in and gave
him something to eat. But he had scarcely begun munching it as slowly
as he could when thump! thump! thump! they heard the giant's footstep,
and his wife hid Jack away in the oven.

All happened as it did before. In came the ogre as he did before,
said: "Fee-fi-fo-fum," and had his breakfast off three broiled oxen.
Then he said: "Wife, bring me the hen that lays the golden eggs." So
she brought it, and the ogre said: "Lay," and it laid an egg all of
gold. And then the ogre began to nod his head, and to snore till the
house shook.

Then Jack crept out of the oven on tiptoe and caught hold of the
golden hen, and was off before you could say "Jack Robinson." But this
time the hen gave a cackle which woke the ogre, and just as Jack got
out of the house he heard him calling: "Wife, wife, what have you done
with my golden hen?"

And the wife said: "Why, my dear?"

But that was all Jack heard, for he rushed off to the beanstalk and
climbed down like a house on fire. And when he got home he showed his
mother the wonderful hen and said "Lay," to it; and it laid a golden
egg every time he said "Lay."

Well, Jack was not content, and it wasn't very long before he
determined to have another try at his luck up there at the top of the
beanstalk. So one fine morning, he got up early, and went on to the
beanstalk, and he climbed and he climbed and he climbed and he climbed
till he got to the top. But this time he knew better than to go
straight to the ogre's house. And when he got near it he waited behind
a bush till he saw the ogre's wife come out with a pail to get some
water, and then he crept into the house and got into the copper. He
hadn't been there long when he heard thump! thump! thump! as before,
and in come the ogre and his wife.

"Fee-fi-fo-fum, I smell the blood of an Englishman," cried out the
ogre; "I smell him, wife, I smell him."

"Do you, my dearie?" says the ogre's wife. "Then if it's that little
rogue that stole your gold and the hen that laid the golden eggs he's
sure to have got into the oven." And they both rushed to the oven. But
Jack wasn't there, luckily, and the ogre's wife said: "There you are
again with your fee-fi-fo-fum. Why of course it's the laddie you
caught last night that I've broiled for your breakfast. How forgetful
I am, and how careless you are not to tell the difference between a
live un and a dead un."

So the ogre sat down to the breakfast and ate it, but every now and
then he would mutter: "Well, I could have sworn----" and he'd get up
and search the larder and the cupboards, and everything, only luckily
he didn't think of the copper.

After breakfast was over, the ogre called out: "Wife, wife, bring me
my golden harp." So she brought it and put it on the table before him.
Then he said: "Sing!" and the golden harp sang most beautifully. And
it went on singing till the ogre fell asleep, and commenced to snore
like thunder.

Then Jack lifted up the copper-lid very quietly and got down like a
mouse and crept on hands and knees till he got to the table when he
got up and caught hold of the golden harp and dashed with it towards
the door. But the harp called out quite loud: "Master! Master!" and
the ogre woke up just in time to see Jack running off with his harp.

Jack ran as fast as he could, and the ogre came rushing after, and
would soon have caught him only Jack had a start and dodged him a bit
and knew where he was going. When he got to the beanstalk the ogre was
not more than twenty yards away when suddenly he saw Jack disappear
like, and when he got up to the end of the road he saw Jack underneath
climbing down for dear life. Well, the ogre didn't like trusting
himself to such a ladder, and he stood and waited, so Jack got another
start. But just then the harp cried out: "Master! master!" and the
ogre swung himself down on to the beanstalk which shook with his
weight. Down climbs Jack, and after him climbed the ogre. By this time
Jack had climbed down and climbed down and climbed down till he was
very nearly home. So he called out: "Mother! mother! bring me an axe,
bring me an axe." And his mother came rushing out with the axe in her
hand, but when she came to the beanstalk she stood stock still with
fright for there she saw the ogre just coming down below the clouds.

But Jack jumped down and got hold of the axe and gave a chop at the
beanstalk which cut it half in two. The ogre felt the beanstalk shake
and quiver so he stopped to see what was the matter. Then Jack gave
another chop with the axe, and the beanstalk was cut in two and began
to topple over. Then the ogre fell down and broke his crown, and the
beanstalk came toppling after.

Then Jack showed his mother his golden harp, and what with showing
that and selling the golden eggs, Jack and his mother became very
rich, and he married a great princess, and they lived happy ever
after.

THE STORY OF THE THREE LITTLE PIGS

Once upon a time when pigs spoke rhyme
And monkeys chewed tobacco,
And hens took snuff to make them tough,
And ducks went quack, quack, quack, O!

There was an old sow with three little pigs, and as she had not enough
to keep them, she sent them out to seek their fortune. The first that
went off met a man with a bundle of straw, and said to him:

"Please, man, give me that straw to build me a house."

Which the man did, and the little pig built a house with it. Presently
came along a wolf, and knocked at the door, and said:

"Little pig, little pig, let me come in."

To which the pig answered:

"No, no, by the hair of my chiny chin chin."

The wolf then answered to that:

"Then I'll huff, and I'll puff, and I'll blow your house in."

So he huffed, and he puffed, and he blew his house in, and ate up the
little pig.

The second little pig met a man with a bundle of furze, and said:

"Please, man, give me that furze to build a house."

Which the man did, and the pig built his house. Then along came the
wolf, and said:

"Little pig, little pig, let me come in."

"No, no, by the hair of my chiny chin chin."

"Then I'll puff, and I'll huff, and I'll blow your house in."

So he huffed, and he puffed, and he puffed, and he huffed, and at last
he blew the house down, and he ate up the little pig.

The third little pig met a man with a load of bricks, and said:

"Please, man, give me those bricks to build a house with."

So the man gave him the bricks, and he built his house with them. So
the wolf came, as he did to the other little pigs, and said:

"Little pig, little pig, let me come in."

"No, no, by the hair of my chiny chin chin."

"Then I'll huff, and I'll puff, and I'll blow your house in."

Well, he huffed, and he puffed, and he huffed and he puffed, and he
puffed and huffed; but he could _not_ get the house down. When he
found that he could not, with all his huffing and puffing, blow the
house down, he said:

"Little pig, I know where there is a nice field of turnips."

"Where?" said the little pig.

"Oh, in Mr. Smith's Home-field, and if you will be ready tomorrow
morning I will call for you, and we will go together, and get some for
dinner."

"Very well," said the little pig, "I will be ready. What time do you
mean to go?"

"Oh, at six o'clock."

Well, the little pig got up at five, and got the turnips before the
wolf came (which he did about six) and who said:

"Little Pig, are you ready?"

The little pig said: "Ready! I have been and come back again, and got

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