have that hen, come what might. So, when the ogre began to doze, he just
out like a flash from the oven, seized the hen, and ran for his life!
But, you see, he reckoned without his prize; for hens, you know, always
cackle when they leave their nests after laying an egg, and this one set
up such a scrawing that it woke the ogre.
"Where's my hen?" he shouted, and his wife came rushing in, and they
both rushed to the door; but Jack had got the better of them by a good
start, and all they could see was a little figure right away down the
wide white road, holding a big, scrawing, cackling, fluttering black hen
by the legs!
How Jack got down the beanstalk he never knew. It was all wings, and
leaves, and feathers, and cacklings; but get down he did, and there was
his mother wondering if the sky was going to fall!
But the very moment Jack touched ground he called out, "Lay!" and the
black hen ceased cackling and laid a great, big, shiny, yellow, golden
egg.
So every one was satisfied; and from that moment everybody had
everything that money could buy. For, whenever they wanted anything,
they just said, "Lay!" and the black hen provided them with gold.
But Jack began to wonder if he couldn't find something else besides
money in the sky. So one fine moonlight midsummer night he refused his
supper, and before he went to bed stole out to the garden with a big
watering-can and watered the ground under his window; for, thought he,
"there must be two more beans somewhere, and perhaps it is too dry for
them to grow." Then he slept like a top.
And, lo and behold! when he woke, there was the green light shimmering
through his room, and there he was in an instant on the beanstalk,
climbing, climbing, climbing for all he was worth.
But this time he knew better than to ask for his breakfast; for the
ogre's wife would be sure to recognise him. So he just hid in some
bushes beside the great white house, till he saw her in the scullery,
and then he slipped out and hid himself in the copper; for he knew she
would be sure to look in the oven first thing.
And by and by he heard--
Thump! THUMP! THUMP!
And peeping through a crack in the copper-lid, he could see the ogre
stalk in with three huge oxen strung at his belt. But this time, no
sooner had the ogre got into the house than he began shouting:
"_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._"
For, see you, the copper-lid didn't fit tight like the oven door, and
ogres have noses like a dog's for scent.
"Well, I declare, so do I!" exclaimed the ogre's wife. "It will be that
horrid boy who stole the bag of gold and the hen. If so, he's hid in the
oven!"
But when she opened the door, lo and behold! Jack wasn't there! Only
some joints of meat roasting and sizzling away. Then she laughed and
said, "You and me be fools for sure. Why, it's the boy you caught last
night as I was getting ready for your breakfast. Yes, we be fools to
take dead meat for live flesh! So eat your breakfast, there's a good
ogre!"
But the ogre, though he enjoyed roast boy very much, wasn't satisfied,
and every now and then he would burst out with "_Fee-fi-fo-fum_," and
get up and search the cupboards, keeping Jack in a fever of fear lest he
should think of the copper.
But he didn't. And when he had finished his breakfast he called out to
his wife, "Bring me my magic harp! I want to be amused."
So she brought out a little harp and put it on the table. And the ogre
leant back in his chair and said lazily:
"Sing!"
And, lo and behold! the harp began to sing. If you want to know what it
sang about? Why! It sang about everything! And it sang so beautifully
that Jack forgot to be frightened, and the ogre forgot to think of
"_Fee-fi-fo-fum_," and fell asleep and
did
NOT
SNORE.
Then Jack stole out of the copper like a mouse and crept hands and knees
to the table, raised himself up ever so softly and laid hold of the
magic harp; for he was determined to have it.
But, no sooner had he touched it, than it cried out quite loud, "Master!
Master!" So the ogre woke, saw Jack making off, and rushed after him.
My goodness, it was a race! Jack was nimble, but the ogre's stride was
twice as long. So, though Jack turned, and twisted, and doubled like a
hare, yet at last, when he got to the beanstalk, the ogre was not a
dozen yards behind him. There wasn't time to think, so Jack just flung
himself on to the stalk and began to go down as fast as he could, while
the harp kept calling, "Master! Master!" at the very top of its voice.
He had only got down about a quarter of the way when there was the most
awful lurch you can think of, and Jack nearly fell off the beanstalk. It
was the ogre beginning to climb down, and his weight made the stalk sway
like a tree in a storm. Then Jack knew it was life or death, and he
climbed down faster and faster, and as he climbed he shouted, "Mother!
Mother! Bring an axe! Bring an axe!"
Now his mother, as luck would have it, was in the backyard chopping
wood, and she ran out thinking that this time the sky must have fallen.
Just at that moment Jack touched ground, and he flung down the
harp--which immediately began to sing of all sorts of beautiful
things--and he seized the axe and gave a great chop at the beanstalk,
which shook and swayed and bent like barley before a breeze.
"Have a care!" shouted the ogre, clinging on as hard as he could. But
Jack _did_ have a care, and he dealt that beanstalk such a shrewd blow
that the whole of it, ogre and all, came toppling down, and, of course,
the ogre broke his crown, so that he died on the spot.
[Illustration: "Fee-fi-fo-fum, I smell the blood of an Englishman."]
[Illustration: Jack seized the axe and gave a great chop at the
beanstalk]
After that every one was quite happy. For they had gold and to spare,
and if the bed-ridden father was dull, Jack just brought out the harp
and said, "Sing!" And, lo and behold! It sang about everything under the
sun.
So Jack ceased wondering so much and became quite a useful person.
And the last bean still hasn't grown yet. It is still in the garden.
I wonder if it will ever grow?
And what little child will climb its beanstalk into the sky?
And what will that child find?
Goody me!
THE BLACK BULL OF NORROWAY
Long ago in Norroway there lived a lady who had three daughters. Now
they were all pretty, and one night they fell a-talking of whom they
meant to marry.
And the eldest said, "I will have no one lower than an Earl."
And the second said, "I will have none lower than a Lord."
But the third, the prettiest and the merriest, tossed her head and said,
with a twinkle in her eye, "Why so proud? As for me I would be content
with the Black Bull of Norroway."
At that the other sisters bade her be silent and not talk lightly of
such a monster. For, see you, is it not written:
To wilder measures now they turn,
The black black Bull of Norroway;
Sudden the tapers cease to burn,
The minstrels cease to play.
So, no doubt, the Black Bull of Norroway was held to be a horrid
monster.
But the youngest daughter would have her laugh, so she said three times
that she would be content with the Black Bull of Norroway.
Well! It so happened that the very next morning a coach-and-six came
swinging along the road, and in it sate an Earl who had come to ask the
hand of the eldest daughter in marriage. So there were great rejoicings
over the wedding, and the bride and bridegroom drove away in the
coach-and-six.
Then the next thing that happened was that a coach-and-four with a Lord
in it came swinging along the road; and he wanted to marry the second
daughter. So they were wed, and there were great rejoicings, and the
bride and bridegroom drove away in the coach-and-four.
Now after this there was only the youngest, the prettiest and the
merriest, of the sisters left, and she became the apple of her mother's
eye. So you may imagine how the mother felt when one morning a terrible
bellowing was heard at the door, and there was a great big Black Bull
waiting for his bride.
She wept and she wailed, and at first the girl ran away and hid herself
in the cellar for fear, but there the Bull stood waiting, and at last
the girl came up and said:
"I promised I would be content with the Black Bull of Norroway, and I
must keep my word. Farewell, mother, you will not see me again."
Then she mounted on the Black Bull's back, and it walked away with her
quite quietly. And ever it chose the smoothest paths and the easiest
roads, so that at last the girl grew less afraid. But she became very
hungry and was nigh to faint when the Black Bull said to her, in quite a
soft voice that wasn't a bellow at all:
"Eat out of my left ear,
Drink out of my right,
And set by what you leave
To serve the morrow's night."
So she did as she was bid, and, lo and behold! the left ear was full of
delicious things to eat, and the right was full of the most delicious
drinks, and there was plenty left over for several days.
Thus they journeyed on, and they journeyed on, through many dreadful
forests and many lonely wastes, and the Black Bull never paused for bite
or sup, but ever the girl he carried ate out of his left ear and drank
out of his right, and set by what she left to serve the morrow's night.
And she slept soft and warm on his broad back.
Now at last they reached a noble castle where a large company of lords
and ladies were assembled, and greatly the company wondered at the sight
of these strange companions. And they invited the girl to supper, but
the Black Bull they turned into the field, and left to spend the night
after his kind.
But when the next morning came, there he was ready for his burden again.
Now, though the girl was loth to leave her pleasant companions, she
remembered her promise, and mounted on his back, so they journeyed on,
and journeyed on, and journeyed on, through many tangled woods and over
many high mountains. And ever the Black Bull chose the smoothest paths
for her and set aside the briars and brambles, while she ate out of his
left ear and drank out of his right.
So at last they came to a magnificent mansion where Dukes and Duchesses
and Earls and Countesses were enjoying themselves. Now the company,
though much surprised at the strange companions, asked the girl in to
supper; and the Black Bull they would have turned into the park for the
night, but that the girl, remembering how well he had cared for her,
asked them to put him into the stable and give him a good feed.
So this was done, and the next morning he was waiting before the
hall-door for his burden; and she, though somewhat loth at leaving the
fine company, mounted him cheerfully enough, and they rode away, and
they rode away, and they rode away, through thick briar brakes and up
fearsome cliffs. But ever the Black Bull trod the brambles underfoot and
chose the easiest paths, while she ate out of his left ear and drank out
of his right, and wanted for nothing, though he had neither bite nor
sup. So it came to pass that he grew tired and was limping with one foot
when, just as the sun was setting, they came to a beautiful palace where
Princes and Princesses were disporting themselves with ball on the green
grass. Now, though the company greatly wondered at the strange
companions, they asked the girl to join them, and ordered the grooms to
lead away the Black Bull to a field.
But she, remembering all he had done for her, said, "Not so! He will
stay with me!" Then seeing a large thorn in the foot with which he had
been limping, she stooped down and pulled it out.
And, lo and behold! in an instant, to every one's surprise, there
appeared, not a frightful monstrous bull, but one of the most beautiful
Princes ever beheld, who fell at his deliverer's feet, thanking her for
having broken his cruel enchantment.
A wicked witch-woman who wanted to marry him had, he said, spelled him
until a beautiful maiden of her own free will should do him a favour.
"But," he said, "the danger is not all over. You have broken the
enchantment by night; that by day has yet to be overcome."
So the next morning the Prince had to resume the form of a bull, and
they set out together; and they rode, and they rode, and they rode, till
they came to a dark and ugsome glen. And here he bade her dismount and
sit on a great rock.
"Here you must stay," he said, "while I go yonder and fight the Old One.
And mind! move neither hand nor foot whilst I am away, else I shall
never find you again. If everything around you turns blue, I shall have
beaten the Old One; but if everything turns red, he will have conquered
me."
And with that, and a tremendous roaring bellow, he set off to find his
foe.
Well, she sate as still as a mouse, moving neither hand nor foot, nor
even her eyes, and waited, and waited, and waited. Then at last
everything turned blue. But she was so overcome with joy to think that
her lover was victorious that she forgot to keep still, and lifting one
of her feet, crossed it over the other!
So she waited, and waited, and waited. Long she sate, and aye she
wearied; and all the time he was seeking for her, but he never found
her.
At last she rose and went she knew not whither, determined to seek for
her lover through the whole wide world. So she journeyed on, and she
journeyed on, and she journeyed on, until one day in a dark wood she
came to a little hut where lived an old, old woman who gave her food and
shelter, and bid her God-speed on her errand, giving her three nuts, a
walnut, a filbert, and a hazel nut, with these words:
"When your heart is like to break,
And once again is like to break,
Crack a nut and in its shell
That will be that suits you well."
After this she felt heartened up, and wandered on till her road was
blocked by a great hill of glass; and though she tried all she could to
climb it, she could not; for aye she slipped back, and slipped back, and
slipped back; for it was like ice.
Then she sought a passage elsewhere, and round and about the foot of the
hill she went sobbing and wailing, but ne'er a foothold could she find.
At last she came to a smithy; and the smith promised if she would serve
him faithfully for seven years and seven days, that he would make her
iron shoon wherewith to climb the hill of glass. So for seven long years
and seven short days she toiled, and span, and swept, and washed in the
smith's house. And for wage he gave her a pair of iron shoon, and with
them she clomb the glassy hill and went on her way.
Now she had not gone far before a company of fine lords and ladies rode
past her talking of all the grand doings that were to be done at the
young Duke of Norroway's wedding. Then she passed a number of people
carrying all sorts of good things which they told her were for the
Duke's wedding. And at last she came to a palace castle where the
courtyards were full of cooks and bakers, some running this way, some
running that, and all so busy that they did not know what to do first.
Then she heard the horns of hunters and cries of "Room! Room for the
Duke of Norroway and his bride!"
And who should ride past but the beautiful Prince she had but half
unspelled, and by his side was the witch-woman who was determined to
marry him that very day.
Well! at the sight she felt that her heart was indeed like to break, and
over again was like to break, so that the time had come for her to crack
one of the nuts. So she broke the walnut, as it was the biggest, and out
of it came a wonderful wee woman carding wool as fast as ever she could
card.
Now when the witch-woman saw this wonderful thing she offered the girl
her choice of anything in the castle for it.
"If you will put off your wedding with the Duke for a day, and let me
watch in his room to-night," said the girl, "you shall have it."
Now, like all witch-women, the bride wanted everything her own way, and
she was so sure she had her groom safe, that she consented; but before
the Duke went to rest she gave him, with her own hands, a posset so made
that any one who drank it would sleep till morning.
Thus, though the girl was allowed alone into the Duke's chamber, and
though she spent the livelong night sighing and singing:
"Far have I sought for thee,
Long have I wrought for thee,
Near am I brought to thee,
Dear Duke o' Norroway;
Wilt thou say naught to me?"
the Duke never wakened, but slept on. So when day came the girl had to
leave him without his ever knowing she had been there.
Then once again her heart was like to break, and over and over again
like to break, and she cracked the filbert nut, because it was the next
biggest. And out of it came a wonderful wee, wee woman spinning away as
fast as ever she could spin. Now when the witch-bride saw this wonderful
thing she once again put off her wedding so that she might possess it.
And once again the girl spent the livelong night in the Duke's chamber
sighing and singing:
"Far have I sought for thee,
Long have I wrought for thee,
Near am I brought to thee,
Dear Duke o' Norroway;
Wilt thou say naught to me?"
But the Duke, who had drunk the sleeping-draught from the hands of his
witch-bride, never stirred, and when dawn came the girl had to leave him
without his ever knowing she had been there.
Then, indeed, the girl's heart was like to break, and over and over and
over again like to break, so she cracked the last nut--the hazel
nut--and out of it came the most wonderful wee, wee, wee-est woman
reeling away at yarn as fast as she could reel.
And this marvel so delighted the witch-bride that once again she
consented to put off her wedding for a day, and allow the girl to watch
in the Duke's chamber the night through, in order to possess it.
Now it so happened that when the Duke was dressing that morning he heard
his pages talking amongst themselves of the strange sighing and singing
they had heard in the night; and he said to his faithful old valet,
"What do the pages mean?"
And the old valet, who hated the witch-bride, said:
"If the master will take no sleeping-draught to-night, mayhap he may
also hear what for two nights has kept me awake."
At this the Duke marvelled greatly, and when the witch-bride brought
him his evening posset, he made excuse it was not sweet enough, and
while she went away to get honey to sweeten it withal, he poured away
the posset and made believe he had swallowed it.
So that night when dark had come, and the girl stole in to his chamber
with a heavy heart thinking it would be the very last time she would
ever see him, the Duke was really broad awake. And when she sate down by
his bedside and began to sing:
"Far have I sought for thee,"
he knew her voice at once, and clasped her in his arms.
Then he told her how he had been in the power of the witch-woman and had
forgotten everything, but that now he remembered all and that the spell
was broken for ever and aye.
So the wedding feast served for their marriage, since the witch-bride,
seeing her power was gone, quickly fled the country and was never heard
of again.
CATSKIN
Once upon a time there lived a gentleman who owned fine lands and
houses, and he very much wanted to have a son to be heir to them. So
when his wife brought him a daughter, though she was bonny as bonny
could be, he cared nought for her, and said:
"Let me never see her face."
So she grew up to be a beautiful maiden, though her father never set
eyes on her till she was fifteen years old and was ready to be married.
Then her father said roughly, "She shall marry the first that comes for
her." Now when this became known, who should come along and be first but
a nasty, horrid old man! So she didn't know what to do, and went to the
hen-wife and asked her advice. And the hen-wife said, "Say you will not
take him unless they give you a coat of silver cloth." Well, they gave
her a coat of silver cloth, but she wouldn't take him for all that, but
went again to the hen-wife, who said, "Say you will not take him unless
they give you a coat of beaten gold." Well, they gave her a coat of
beaten gold, but still she would not take the old man, but went again
to the hen-wife, who said, "Say you will not take him unless they give
you a coat made of the feathers of all the birds of the air." So they
sent out a man with a great heap of peas; and the man cried to all the
birds of the air, "Each bird take a pea and put down a feather." So each
bird took a pea and put down one of its feathers: and they took all the
feathers and made a coat of them and gave it to her; but still she would
not take the nasty, horrid old man, but asked the hen-wife once again
what she was to do, and the hen-wife said, "Say they must first make you
a coat of catskin." Then they made her a coat of catskin; and she put it
on, and tied up her other coats into a bundle, and when it was
night-time ran away with it into the woods.
Now she went along, and went along, and went along, till at the end of
the wood she saw a fine castle. Then she hid her fine dresses by a
crystal waterfall and went up to the castle gates and asked for work.
The lady of the castle saw her, and told her, "I'm sorry I have no
better place, but if you like you may be our scullion." So down she went
into the kitchen, and they called her Catskin, because of her dress. But
the cook was very cruel to her, and led her a sad life.
Well, soon after that it happened that the young lord of the castle came
home, and there was to be a grand ball in honour of the occasion. And
when they were speaking about it among the servants, "Dear me, Mrs.
Cook," said Catskin, "how much I should like to go!"
"What! You dirty, impudent slut," said the cook, "you go among all the
fine lords and ladies with your filthy catskin? A fine figure you'd
cut!" and with that she took a basin of water and dashed it into
Catskin's face. But Catskin only shook her ears and said nothing.
Now when the day of the ball arrived, Catskin slipped out of the house
and went to the edge of the forest where she had hidden her dresses.
Then she bathed herself in a crystal waterfall, and put on her coat of
silver cloth, and hastened away to the ball. As soon as she entered all
were overcome by her beauty and grace, while the young lord at once lost
his heart to her. He asked her to be his partner for the first dance;
and he would dance with none other the livelong night.
When it came to parting time, the young lord said, "Pray tell me, fair
maid, where you live?"
But Catskin curtsied and said:
"Kind sir, if the truth I must tell,
At the sign of the 'Basin of Water' I dwell."
Then she flew from the castle and donned her catskin robe again, and
slipped into the scullery, unbeknown to the cook.
The young lord went the very next day and searched for the sign of the
"Basin of Water"; but he could not find it. So he went to his mother,
the lady of the castle, and declared he would wed none other but the
lady of the silver dress, and would never rest till he had found her.
So another ball was soon arranged in hopes that the beautiful maid would
appear again.
So Catskin said to the cook, "Oh, how I should like to go!" Whereupon
the cook screamed out in a rage, "What, you, you dirty, impudent slut!
You would cut a fine figure among all the fine lords and ladies." And
with that she up with a ladle and broke it across Catskin's back. But
Catskin only shook her ears, and ran off to the forest, where, first of
all, she bathed, and then she put on her coat of beaten gold, and off
she went to the ball-room.
As soon as she entered all eyes were upon her; and the young lord at
once recognised her as the lady of the "Basin of Water," claimed her
hand for the first dance, and did not leave her till the last. When that
came, he again asked her where she lived. But all that she would say
was:
"Kind sir, if the truth I must tell,
At the sign of the 'Broken Ladle' I dwell";
and with that she curtsied and flew from the ball, off with her golden
robe, on with her catskin, and into the scullery without the cook's
knowing.
Next day, when the young lord could not find where the sign of the
"Basin of Water" was, he begged his mother to have another grand ball,
so that he might meet the beautiful maid once more.
Then Catskin said to the cook, "Oh, how I wish I could go to the ball!"
Whereupon the cook called out: "A fine figure you'd cut!" and broke the
skimmer across her head. But Catskin only shook her ears, and went off
to the forest, where she first bathed in the crystal spring, and then
donned her coat of feathers, and so off to the ball-room.
When she entered every one was surprised at so beautiful a face and form
dressed in so rich and rare a dress; but the young lord at once
recognised his beautiful sweetheart, and would dance with none but her
the whole evening. When the ball came to an end he pressed her to tell
him where she lived, but all she would answer was:
"Kind sir, if the truth I must tell,
At the sign of the 'Broken Skimmer' I dwell";