Once upon a time, and be sure 't was a long time ago, there lived a poor
woodman in a great forest, and every day of his life he went out to fell
timber. So one day he started out, and the goodwife filled his wallet
and slung his bottle on his back, that he might have meat and drink in
the forest. He had marked out a huge old oak, which, thought he, would
furnish many and many a good plank. And when he was come to it, he took
his axe in his hand and swung it round his head as though he were minded
to fell the tree at one stroke. But he hadn't given one blow, when what
should he hear but the pitifullest entreating, and there stood before
him a fairy who prayed and beseeched him to spare the tree. He was
dazed, as you may fancy, with wonderment and affright, and he couldn't
open his mouth to utter a word. But he found his tongue at last, and,
"Well," said he, "I'll e'en do as thou wishest."
"You've done better for yourself than you know," answered the fairy,
"and to show I'm not ungrateful, I'll grant you your next three wishes,
be they what they may." And therewith the fairy was no more to be seen,
and the woodman slung his wallet over his shoulder and his bottle at his
side, and off he started home.
But the way was long, and the poor man was regularly dazed with the
wonderful thing that had befallen him, and when he got home there was
nothing in his noddle but the wish to sit down and rest. Maybe, too, 't
was a trick of the fairy's. Who can tell? Anyhow down he sat by the
blazing fire, and as he sat he waxed hungry, though it was a long way
off supper-time yet.
"Hasn't thou naught for supper, dame?" said he to his wife.
"Nay, not for a couple of hours yet," said she.
"Ah!" groaned the woodman, "I wish I'd a good link of black pudding here
before me."
No sooner had he said the word, when clatter, clatter, rustle, rustle,
what should come down the chimney but a link of the finest black pudding
the heart of man could wish for.
If the woodman stared, the goodwife stared three times as much. "What's
all this?" says she.
Then all the morning's work came back to the woodman, and he told his
tale right out, from beginning to end, and as he told it the goodwife
glowered and glowered, and when he had made an end of it she burst out,
"Thou bee'st but a fool, Jan, thou bee'st but a fool; and I wish the
pudding were at thy nose, I do indeed."
And before you could say Jack Robinson, there the goodman sat and his
nose was the longer for a noble link of black pudding.
He gave a pull but it stuck, and she gave a pull but it stuck, and they
both pulled till they had nigh pulled the nose off, but it stuck and
stuck.
"What's to be done now?" said he.
"'T isn't so very unsightly," said she, looking hard at him.
Then the woodman saw that if he wished, he must need wish in a hurry;
and wish he did, that the black pudding might come off his nose. Well!
there it lay in a dish on the table, and if the goodman and goodwife
didn't ride in a golden coach, or dress in silk and satin, why, they had
at least as fine a black pudding for their supper as the heart of man
could desire.