"One old Woman, in a fix,
Made me go and gather sticks;
Then she gave me, for the sake
Of the fuel, one sweet cake.
Potter's son ate that, and he
Gave a pot instead to me.
Since to you I gave that pot,
Give me butter, will you not?"
The wife of the Cowherd was much pleased with this song, as she was fond
of music. "If your kindness," said she, "had not already earned the
butter, your pretty song would be worth it." Then she gave him a good
lump of butter.
Off went the Monkey in high glee, capering along with the lump of butter
wrapped up in a leaf. As he went, he came to another place, where a
Cowherd was grazing his kine. The Cowherd was sitting down at that
moment, and enjoying his dinner, which consisted of a hunk of dry bread.
"Why do you eat dry bread, Mr. Cowherd?" asked the Monkey. "Are you
fasting?"
"I am eating dry bread," quoth the Cowherd, "because I have nothing to
eat with it."
"What do you say to this?" said the Monkey, cutting a caper, and
offering to the Cowherd his lump of butter, wrapped up in a leaf.
"Ah," said the Cowherd, "prime." Not another word said he, but spread
the butter upon his dry bread, and set to, with much relish.
The Monkey sat on his tail, and watched the Cowherd eating his meal.
When the meal was eaten, up jumped the Monkey, and began capering and
dancing, hopping and skipping, round and round the herd of kine.
"Ah," said the Bumpkin, "what are you a-doing that for?" The Bumpkin was
so ignorant that he thought the Monkey wanted to bewitch his cattle, and
dry up all their milk.
The Monkey went on with his skips and capers, and as he capered, he sang
this ditty:--
"One old Woman, in a fix,
Made me go and get her sticks;
Then she gave me, for the sake
Of the fuel, one sweet cake.
Potter's son the sweet cake got,
Gave me, in return, one pot.
Cow-wife had the pot, and she
Butter gave instead to me.
This I gave to you just now:
Will you give me, please, one cow?"
"Ah," said the Bumpkin, "'spose I must." He was afraid of the Monkey's
spells, and so he gave him a cow.
Away capered the Monkey, in high glee, leading his cow by a string. "I
am indeed getting on in the world," said he.
By-and-by, what should he see coming along the road, but the King
himself. The King was fastened to the shafts of a cart, which he was
slowly dragging along; and jogging by the side of this cart was an ox;
and upon the ox sat the Queen. This King had very simple tastes, and so
had the Queen.
"O King," said the Monkey, "why are you dragging your cart with your own
royal hands?"
"This is the reason, O Monkey!" said the King. "My ox died in the
forest, and I drag the cart because this cart will not drag itself."
"Come, sire," said the Monkey, "I don't like to see a King doing
draught-work. Take this cow of mine, and welcome."
"Thank you, good and faithful Monkey," said the King. He mopped his
brow, and yoked in the cow.
The Monkey began to dance and caper, jump and skip, round the Queen.
"What is the matter, worthy Monkey?" asked the King.