place should be taken by a strange woman, nor was she pleased to think
that she would have to give up keeping house for her father the King.
For she had always taken a pride in her work. But she said nothing,
though she stood long on the castle walls looking out across the sea
wishing for her dear brother's return; for, see you, they had mothered
each other.
Still no news came of Childe Wynde; so on the day when the old King was
to bring the new Queen home, May Margret counted over the keys of the
castle chambers, knotted them on a string, and after casting them over
her left shoulder for luck--more for her father's sake than for the new
Queen's regard--she stood at the castle gate ready to hand over the keys
to her stepmother.
Now as the bridal procession approached with all the lords of the north
countrie, and some of the Scots lords in attendance, she looked so fair
and so sweet, that the lords whispered to one another of her beauty. And
when, after saying in a voice like a mavis--
"Oh welcome, welcome, father,
Unto your halls and towers!
And welcome too, my stepmother,
For all that's here is yours!"
she turned upon the step and tripped into the yard, the Scots lords said
aloud:
"Forsooth! May Margret's grace
Surpasses all that we have met, she has so fair a face!"
Now the new Queen overheard this, and she stamped her foot and her face
flushed with anger as she turned her about and called:
"You might have excepted me,
But I will bring May Margret to a Laidly Worm's degree;
I'll bring her low as a Laidly Worm
That warps about a stone,
And not till the Childe of Wynde come back
Will the witching be undone."
Well! hearing this May Margret laughed, not knowing that her new
stepmother, for all her beauty, was a witch; and the laugh made the
wicked woman still more angry. So that same night she left her royal
bed, and, returning to the lonely cave where she had ever done her
magic, she cast Princess May Margret under a spell with charms three
times three, and passes nine times nine. And this was her spell:
"I weird ye to a Laidly Worm,
And such sail ye ever be
Until Childe Wynde the King's dear son
Comes home across the sea.
Until the world comes to an end
Unspelled ye'll never be,
Unless Childe Wynde of his own free will
Sail give you kisses three!"
So it came to pass that Princess May Margret went to her bed a beauteous
maiden, full of grace, and rose next morning a Laidly Worm; for when her
tire-women came to dress her they found coiled up in her bed an awesome
dragon, which uncoiled itself and came towards them. And when they ran
away terrified, the Laidly Worm crawled and crept, and crept and crawled
down to the sea till it reached the rock of the Spindlestone which is
called the Heugh. And there it curled itself round the stone, and lay
basking in the sun.
Then for seven miles east and seven miles west and seven miles north and
south the whole country-side knew the hunger of the Laidly Worm of
Spindlestone Heugh, for it drove the awesome beast to leave its
resting-place at night and devour everything it came across.
At last a wise warlock told the people that if they wished to be quit of
these horrors, they must take every drop of the milk of seven white
milch kine every morn and every eve to the trough of stone at the foot
of the Heugh, for the Laidly Worm to drink. And this they did, and after
that the Laidly Worm troubled the country-side no longer; but lay warped
about the Heugh, looking out to sea with its terrible snout in the air.
But the word of its doings had gone east and had gone west; it had even
gone over the sea and had come to Childe Wynde's ears; and the news of
it angered him; for he thought perchance it had something to do with his
beloved sister May Margret's disappearance. So he called his men-at-arms
together and said:
"We must sail to Bamborough and land by Spindlestone, so as to quell and
kill this Laidly Worm."
Then they built a ship without delay, laying the keel with wood from the
rowan tree. And they made masts of rowan wood also, and oars likewise;
and, so furnished, set forth.
Now the wicked Queen knew by her arts they were coming, so she sent out
her imps to still the winds so that the fluttering sails of silk hung
idle on the masts. But Childe Wynde was not to be bested; so he called
out the oarsmen. Thus it came to pass that one morn the wicked Queen,
looking from the Keep, saw the gallant ship in Bamborough Bay, and she
sent out all her witch-wives and her impets to raise a storm and sink
the ship; but they came back unable to hurt it, for, see you, it was
built of rowan wood, over which witches have no power.
Then, as a last device, the Witch Queen laid spells upon the Laidly Worm
saying:
"Oh! Laidly Worm! Go make their topmast heel,
Go! Worm the sand, and creep beneath the keel."
Now the Laidly Worm had no choice but to obey. So:
"The Worm leapt up, the Worm leapt down
And plaited round each plank,
And aye as the ship came close to shore
She heeled as if she sank."
Three times three did Childe Wynde attempt to land, and three times
three the Laidly Worm kept the good ship from the shore. At last Childe
Wynde gave the word to put the ship about, and the Witch Queen, who was
watching from the Keep, thought he had given up: but he was not to be
bested: for he only rounded the next point to Budley sands. And there,
jumping into the shoal water, he got safely to land, and drawing his
sword of proof, rushed up to fight the awesome Worm. But as he raised
his sword to strike he heard a voice, soft as the western wind:
"Oh quit thy sword, unbend thy bow,
And give me kisses three,
For though I seem a Laidly Worm
No harm I'll do to thee!"
And the voice seemed to him like the voice of his dear sister May
Margret. So he stayed his hand. Then once again the Laidly Worm said:
"Oh quit thy sword, unbend thy bow,
My laidly form forget.
Forgive the wrong and kiss me thrice
For love of May Margret."
Then Childe Wynde, remembering how he had loved his sister, put his arms
round the Laidly Worm and kissed it once. And he kissed the loathly
thing twice. And he kissed it yet a third time as he stood with the wet
sand at his feet.
Then with a hiss and a roar the Laidly Worm sank to the sand, and in his
arms was May Margret!
He wrapped her in his mantle, for she trembled in the cold sea air, and
carried her to Bamborough Castle, where the wicked Queen, knowing her
hour was come, stood, all deserted by her imps and witch-wives, on the
stairs, twisting her hands.
Then Childe Wynde looking at her cried:
"Woe! Woe to thee, thou wicked Witch!
An ill fate shalt thine be!
The doom thou dreed on May Margret
The same doom shalt thou dree.
Henceforth thou'lt be a Laidly Toad
That in the clay doth wend,
And unspelled thou wilt never be
Till this world hath an end."
And as he spoke the wicked Queen began to shrivel, and she shrivelled
and shrivelled to a horrid wrinkled toad that hopped down the castle
steps and disappeared in a crevice.
But to this day a loathsome toad is sometimes seen haunting Bamborough
Keep; and that Laidly Toad is the wicked Witch Queen!
But Childe Wynde and Princess May Margret loved each other as much as
ever, and lived happily ever after.
[Illustration: Tatty sat down and wept]
TITTY MOUSE AND TATTY MOUSE
Titty Mouse and Tatty Mouse both lived in a house.
Titty Mouse went a-gleaning, and Tatty Mouse went a-gleaning.
So they both went a-gleaning.
Titty Mouse gleaned an ear of corn, and Tatty Mouse gleaned an ear of
corn.
So they both gleaned an ear of corn.
Titty Mouse made a pudding, and Tatty Mouse made a pudding.
So they both made a pudding.
And Tatty Mouse put her pudding into the pot to boil.
But when Titty went to put hers in, the pot tumbled over, and scalded
her to death, and Tatty sat down and wept.
Then the three-legged stool said, "Tatty, why do you weep?"
"Titty's dead," said Tatty, "and so I weep."
"Then," said the stool, "I'll hop," so the stool hopped.
Then a broom in the corner of the room said, "Stool, why do you hop?"
"Oh!" said the stool, "Titty's dead, and Tatty weeps, and so I hop."
"Then," said the broom, "I'll sweep," so the broom began to sweep.
Then said the door, "Broom, why do you sweep?"
"Oh!" said the broom, "Titty's dead, and Tatty weeps, and the stool
hops, and so I sweep."
"Then," said the door, "I'll jar," so the door jarred.
Then the window said, "Door, why do you jar?"
"Oh!" said the door, "Titty's dead, and Tatty weeps, and the stool hops,
and the broom sweeps, and so I jar."
"Then," said the window, "I'll creak," so the window creaked.
Now there was an old form outside the house, and when the window
creaked, the form said, "Window, why do you creak?"
"Oh!" said the window, "Titty's dead, and Tatty weeps, and the stool
hops, and the broom sweeps, the door jars, and so I creak!"
"Then," said the old form, "I'll gallop round the house." So the old
form galloped round the house.
Now there was a fine large walnut tree growing by the cottage, and the
tree said to the form, "Form, why do you gallop round the house?"
"Oh!" says the form, "Titty's dead, and Tatty weeps, and the stool
hops, and the broom sweeps, the door jars, and the window creaks, and so
I gallop round the house."
"Then," said the walnut tree, "I'll shed my leaves." So the walnut tree
shed all its beautiful green leaves.
Now there was a little bird perched on one of the boughs of the tree,
and when all the leaves fell, it said, "Walnut tree, why do you shed
your leaves?"
"Oh!" said the tree, "Titty's dead, and Tatty weeps, the stool hops, and
the broom sweeps, the door jars, and the window creaks, the old form
gallops round the house, and so I shed my leaves."
"Then," said the little bird, "I'll moult all my feathers," so he
moulted all his gay feathers.
Now there was a little girl walking below, carrying a jug of milk for
her brothers' and sisters' supper, and when she saw the poor little bird
moult all its feathers, she said, "Little bird, why do you moult all
your feathers?"
"Oh!" said the little bird, "Titty's dead, and Tatty weeps, the stool
hops, and the broom sweeps, the door jars, and the window creaks, the
old form gallops round the house, the walnut tree sheds its leaves, and
so I moult all my feathers."
"Then," said the little girl, "I'll spill the milk." So she dropt the
pitcher and spilt the milk.
Now there was an old man just by on the top of a ladder thatching a
rick, and when he saw the little girl spill the milk, he said, "Little
girl, what do you mean by spilling the milk? your little brothers and
sisters must go without their suppers."
Then said the little girl, "Titty's dead, and Tatty weeps, the stool
hops, and the broom sweeps, the door jars, and the window creaks, the
old form gallops round the house, the walnut tree sheds all its leaves,
the little bird moults all its feathers, and so I spill the milk."
"Oh!" said the old man, "then I'll tumble off the ladder and break my
neck."
So he tumbled off the ladder and broke his neck; and when the old man
broke his neck, the great walnut tree fell down with a crash and upset
the old form and house, and the house falling knocked the window out,
and the window knocked the door down, and the door upset the broom, and
the broom upset the stool, and poor little Tatty Mouse was buried
beneath the ruins.
JACK AND THE BEANSTALK
A long long time ago, when most of the world was young and folk did what
they liked because all things were good, there lived a boy called Jack.
His father was bed-ridden, and his mother, a good soul, was busy early
morns and late eves planning and placing how to support her sick husband
and her young son by selling the milk and butter which Milky-White, the
beautiful cow, gave them without stint. For it was summer-time. But
winter came on; the herbs of the fields took refuge from the frosts in
the warm earth, and though his mother sent Jack to gather what fodder he
could get in the hedgerows, he came back as often as not with a very
empty sack; for Jack's eyes were so often full of wonder at all the
things he saw that sometimes he forgot to work!
So it came to pass that one morning Milky-White gave no milk at all--not
one drain! Then the good hard-working mother threw her apron over her
head and sobbed:
"What shall we do? What shall we do?"
Now Jack loved his mother; besides, he felt just a bit sneaky at being
such a big boy and doing so little to help, so he said, "Cheer up! Cheer
up! I'll go and get work somewhere." And he felt as he spoke as if he
would work his fingers to the bone; but the good woman shook her head
mournfully.
"You've tried that before, Jack," she said, "and nobody would keep you.
You are quite a good lad but your wits go a-wool-gathering. No, we must
sell Milky-White and live on the money. It is no use crying over milk
that is not here to spill!"
You see, she was a wise as well as a hard-working woman, and Jack's
spirits rose.
"Just so," he cried. "We will sell Milky-White and be richer than ever.
It's an ill wind that blows no one good. So, as it is market-day, I'll
just take her there and we shall see what we shall see."
"But--" began his mother.
"But doesn't butter parsnips," laughed Jack. "Trust me to make a good
bargain."
So, as it was washing-day, and her sick husband was more ailing than
usual, his mother let Jack set off to sell the cow.
"Not less than ten pounds," she bawled after him as he turned the
corner.
Ten pounds, indeed! Jack had made up his mind to twenty! Twenty solid
golden sovereigns!
He was just settling what he should buy his mother as a fairing out of
the money, when he saw a queer little old man on the road who called
out, "Good-morning, Jack!"
"Good-morning," replied Jack, with a polite bow, wondering how the queer
little old man happened to know his name; though, to be sure, Jacks were
as plentiful as blackberries.
"And where may you be going?" asked the queer little old man. Jack
wondered again--he was always wondering, you know--what the queer little
old man had to do with it; but, being always polite, he replied:
"I am going to market to sell Milky-White--and I mean to make a good
bargain."
"So you will! So you will!" chuckled the queer little old man. "You
look the sort of chap for it. I bet you know how many beans make five?"
"Two in each hand and one in my mouth," answered Jack readily. He really
was sharp as a needle.
"Just so, just so!" chuckled the queer little old man; and as he spoke
he drew out of his pocket five beans. "Well, here they are, so give us
Milky-White."
Jack was so flabbergasted that he stood with his mouth open as if he
expected the fifth bean to fly into it.
"What!" he said at last. "My Milky-White for five common beans! Not if I
know it!"
"But they aren't common beans," put in the queer little old man, and
there was a queer little smile on his queer little face. "If you plant
these beans over-night, by morning they will have grown up right into
the very sky."
Jack was too flabbergasted this time even to open his mouth; his eyes
opened instead.
[Illustration: As he spoke he drew out of his pocket five beans]
"Did you say right into the very sky?" he asked at last; for, see you,
Jack had wondered more about the sky than about anything else.
"_RIGHT UP INTO THE VERY SKY_" repeated the queer old man, with a nod
between each word. "It's a good bargain, Jack; and, as fair play's a
jewel, if they don't--why! meet me here to-morrow morning and you shall
have Milky-White back again. Will that please you?"
"Right as a trivet," cried Jack, without stopping to think, and the next
moment he found himself standing on an empty road.
"Two in each hand and one in my mouth," repeated Jack. "That is what I
said, and what I'll do. Everything in order, and if what the queer
little old man said isn't true, I shall get Milky-White back to-morrow
morning."
So whistling and munching the bean he trudged home cheerfully, wondering
what the sky would be like if he ever got there.
"What a long time you've been!" exclaimed his mother, who was watching
anxiously for him at the gate. "It is past sun-setting; but I see you
have sold Milky-White. Tell me quick how much you got for her."
"You'll never guess," began Jack.
"Laws-a-mercy! You don't say so," interrupted the good woman. "And I
worriting all day lest they should take you in. What was it? Ten
pounds--fifteen--sure it _can't_ be twenty!"
Jack held out the beans triumphantly.
"There," he said. "That's what I got for her, and a jolly good bargain
too!"
It was his mother's turn to be flabbergasted; but all she said was:
"What! Them beans!"
"Yes," replied Jack, beginning to doubt his own wisdom; "but they're
_magic_ beans. If you plant them over-night, by morning
they--grow--right up--into--the--sky--Oh! Please don't hit so hard!"
For Jack's mother for once had lost her temper, and was belabouring the
boy for all she was worth. And when she had finished scolding and
beating, she flung the miserable beans out of window and sent him,
supperless, to bed.
If this was the magical effect of the beans, thought Jack ruefully, he
didn't want any more magic, if you please.
However, being healthy and, as a rule, happy, he soon fell asleep and
slept like a top.
When he woke he thought at first it was moonlight, for everything in the
room showed greenish. Then he stared at the little window. It was
covered as if with a curtain by leaves. He was out of bed in a trice,
and the next moment, without waiting to dress, was climbing up the
biggest beanstalk you ever saw. For what the queer little old man had
said was true! One of the beans which his mother had chucked into the
garden had found soil, taken root, and grown in the night....
Where?...
Up to the very sky? Jack meant to see at any rate.
So he climbed, and he climbed, and he climbed. It was easy work, for the
big beanstalk with the leaves growing out of each side was like a
ladder; for all that he soon was out of breath. Then he got his second
wind, and was just beginning to wonder if he had a third when he saw in
front of him a wide, shining white road stretching away, and away, and
away.
So he took to walking, and he walked, and walked, and walked, till he
came to a tall, shining white house with a wide white doorstep.
And on the doorstep stood a great big woman with a black porridge-pot
in her hand. Now Jack, having had no supper, was hungry as a hunter, and
when he saw the porridge-pot he said quite politely:
"Good-morning, 'm. I wonder if you _could_ give me some breakfast?"
"Breakfast!" echoed the woman, who, in truth, was an ogre's wife. "If it
is breakfast you're wanting, it's breakfast you'll likely be; for I
expect my man home every instant, and there is nothing he likes better
for breakfast than a boy--a fat boy grilled on toast."
Now Jack was not a bit of a coward, and when he wanted a thing he
generally got it, so he said cheerful-like:
"I'd be fatter if I'd had my breakfast!" Whereat the ogre's wife laughed
and bade Jack come in; for she was not, really, half as bad as she
looked. But he had hardly finished the great bowl of porridge and milk
she gave him when the whole house began to tremble and quake. It was the
ogre coming home!
Thump! THUMP!! THUMP!!!
"Into the oven with you, sharp!" cried the ogre's wife; and the iron
oven door was just closed when the ogre strode in. Jack could see him
through the little peep-hole slide at the top where the steam came out.
He was a big one for sure. He had three sheep strung to his belt, and
these he threw down on the table. "Here, wife," he cried, "roast me
these snippets for breakfast; they are all I've been able to get this
morning, worse luck! I hope the oven's hot?" And he went to touch the
handle, while Jack burst out all of a sweat, wondering what would happen
next.
"Roast!" echoed the ogre's wife. "Pooh! the little things would dry to
cinders. Better boil them."
So she set to work to boil them; but the ogre began sniffing about the
room. "They don't smell--mutton meat," he growled. Then he frowned
horribly and began the real ogre's rhyme:
"_Fee-fi-fo-fum,
I smell the blood of an Englishman.
Be he alive, or be he dead,
I'll grind his bones to make my bread._"
"Don't be silly!" said his wife. "It's the bones of the little boy you
had for supper that I'm boiling down for soup! Come, eat your breakfast,
there's a good ogre!"
So the ogre ate his three sheep, and when he had done he went to a big
oaken chest and took out three big bags of golden pieces. These he put
on the table, and began to count their contents while his wife cleared
away the breakfast things. And by and by his head began to nod, and at
last he began to snore, and snored so loud that the whole house shook.
Then Jack nipped out of the oven and, seizing one of the bags of gold,
crept away, and ran along the straight, wide, shining white road as fast
as his legs would carry him till he came to the beanstalk. He couldn't
climb down it with the bag of gold, it was so heavy, so he just flung
his burden down first, and, helter-skelter, climbed after it.
And when he came to the bottom, there was his mother picking up gold
pieces out of the garden as fast as she could; for, of course, the bag
had burst.
"Laws-a-mercy me!" she says. "Wherever have you been? See! It's been
rainin' gold!"
"No, it hasn't," began Jack. "I climbed up--"
Then he turned to look for the beanstalk; but, lo and behold! it wasn't
there at all! So he knew, then, it was all real magic.
After that they lived happily on the gold pieces for a long time, and
the bed-ridden father got all sorts of nice things to eat; but, at last,
a day came when Jack's mother showed a doleful face as she put a big
yellow sovereign into Jack's hand and bade him be careful marketing,
because there was not one more in the coffer. After that they must
starve.
That night Jack went supperless to bed of his own accord. If he couldn't
make money, he thought, at any rate he could eat less money. It was a
shame for a big boy to stuff himself and bring no grist to the mill.
He slept like a top, as boys do when they don't overeat themselves, and
when he woke....
Hey, presto! the whole room showed greenish, and there was a curtain of
leaves over the window! Another bean had grown in the night, and Jack
was up it like a lamp-lighter before you could say knife.
This time he didn't take nearly so long climbing until he reached the
straight, wide, white road, and in a trice he found himself before the
tall white house, where on the wide white steps the ogre's wife was
standing with the black porridge-pot in her hand.
And this time Jack was as bold as brass. "Good-morning, 'm," he said.
"I've come to ask you for breakfast, for I had no supper, and I'm as
hungry as a hunter."
"Go away, bad boy!" replied the ogre's wife. "Last time I gave a boy
breakfast my man missed a whole bag of gold. I believe you are the same
boy."
"Maybe I am, maybe I'm not," said Jack, with a laugh. "I'll tell you
true when I've had my breakfast; but not till then."
So the ogre's wife, who was dreadfully curious, gave him a big bowl full
of porridge; but before he had half finished it he heard the ogre
coming--
Thump! THUMP! THUMP!
"In with you to the oven," shrieked the ogre's wife. "You shall tell me
when he has gone to sleep."
This time Jack saw through the steam peep-hole that the ogre had three
fat calves strung to his belt.
"Better luck to-day, wife!" he cried, and his voice shook the house.
"Quick! Roast these trifles for my breakfast! I hope the oven's hot?"
And he went to feel the handle of the door, but his wife cried out
sharply:
"Roast! Why, you'd have to wait hours before they were done! I'll broil
them--see how bright the fire is!"
"Umph!" growled the ogre. And then he began sniffing and calling out:
"_Fee-fi-fo-fum,
I smell the blood of an Englishman.
Be he alive, or be he dead,
I'll grind his bones to make my bread._"
"Twaddle!" said the ogre's wife. "It's only the bones of the boy you had
last week that I've put into the pig-bucket!"
"Umph!" said the ogre harshly; but he ate the broiled calves, and then
he said to his wife, "Bring me my hen that lays the magic eggs. I want
to see gold."
So the ogre's wife brought him a great big black hen with a shiny red
comb. She plumped it down on the table and took away the breakfast
things.
Then the ogre said to the hen, "Lay!" and it promptly laid--what do you
think?--a beautiful, shiny, yellow, golden egg!
"None so dusty, henny-penny," laughed the ogre. "I shan't have to beg as
long as I've got you." Then he said, "Lay!" once more; and, lo and
behold! there was another beautiful, shiny, yellow, golden egg!