CHRISTMAS TALES OF FLANDERS
[Illustration]
KEEP THIS BOOK CLEAN
[Illustration]
CHRISTMAS
TALES OF
FLANDERS
ILLUSTRATED BY
JEAN DE BOSSCHERE
[Illustration]
NEW YORK: DODD, MEAD & COMPANY
MCMXVII
PRINTED IN GREAT BRITAIN AT THE COMPLETE PRESS
WEST NORWOOD, LONDON, S.E.
[Illustration]
INTRODUCTION
The Christmas Tales of Flanders presented in this volume are popular
fables and legends current in Flanders and Brabant, which have for
centuries been told to children throughout Belgium. Their origin is
doubtful, as all literature handed down by oral tradition must be. A
good many of these stories are found in a different guise in the legends
of other nations. “Seppy” is closely akin to the rhyme of “The Old Man
who lived in the Wood”; and the prototypes of others will be readily
recognized; but all of them have peculiar Flemish traits. They have the
picturesqueness characteristic of the country which produced such a
glorious school of painting, and the freshness of their presentation is
a high tribute to the creative imagination of the Flanders folk.
Sometimes they are primitive to a degree, and in such tales as “Simple
John” and “The Boy who always said the Wrong Thing,” the storyteller
attributes the most elementary and artless mentality to his heroes, so
as to explain the extravagant adventures he relates. These tales occupy
for the Flemish the place nursery rhymes take in England, and as the
nursery rhymes have been collected in England at various times and in
different forms and guises, so the Flemish folk-tales have also been
collected in various ways and in various parts of Flanders. Messrs.
Demont and Decock produced a book entitled “Zoo Vertellen de Vlamingen,”
from which collection a good many of these stories are taken. Others
came from the “Brabantsch Segenboak,” which J. Teiclinck wrote for the
Flemish Academy. They were translated by M. C. O. Morris and are here
published for the first time in English.
[Illustration]
[Illustration]
CONTENTS
PAGE
THE RICH WOMAN AND THE POOR WOMAN 1
THE STORY OF SEPPY 8
THE ENCHANTED APPLE-TREE 14
THE CONVENT FREE FROM CARE 18
THE WITCHES’ CELLAR 21
THE BOY WHO ALWAYS SAID THE WRONG THING 25
HOP-O’-MY-THUMB 29
THE EMPEROR’S PARROT 36
THE LITTLE BLACKSMITH VERHOLEN 42
BALTEN AND THE WOLF 61
THE MERMAID 69
THE STORY OF THE LITTLE HALF-COCK 75
THE DWARF AND THE BLACKSMITH 81
PERCY THE WIZARD, NICKNAMED SNAIL 86
SIMPLE JOHN 94
THE TWO CHICKENS OR THE TWO EARS 100
THE WONDERFUL FISH 105
THE FRYING-PAN 115
FARMER BROOM, FARMER LEAVES, AND FARMER IRON 118
LITTLE LODEWYK AND ANNIE THE WITCH 123
THE GIANT OF THE CAUSEWAY 126
THE KEY-FLOWER 134
THE OGRE 136
[Illustration]
[Illustration]
LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS
IN COLOUR
_Facing
page_
THE SEA-MONSTERS AND THE FISHERMAN _Frontispiece_
THE RICH WOMAN AND THE POOR WOMAN: THE TWO FARMS AT CHRISTMAS EVE 2
THE ENCHANTED APPLE-TREE 16
THE WITCHES’ CELLAR 24
HOP-O’-MY-THUMB AND THE ROBBERS 30
THE DEVIL BEATEN THREE TIMES 52
THE PROCESSION 58
THE MERMAID, THE MOTHER, AND HER DAUGHTER 74
THE DWARF’S FEAST 84
SIMPLE JOHN, THE HORSE, THE COW, AND THE PIG 94
THE THREE FARMERS AND THEIR HOUSES 118
THE GIANT, HIS DAUGHTER, AND THE KNIGHT 132
IN BLACK AND WHITE AND IN TWO COLOURS
PAGE
ST. PETER AND THE TWO WOMEN 1
SHE SENT THE BEGGAR AWAY, WISHING HIM GOD-SPEED 2
THE NEIGHBOURS CAME TO SAY GOOD DAY 3
SHE WAS DISGUSTED WITH HERSELF 4
TRY AS SHE WOULD, SHE WAS OBLIGED TO GO ON CUTTING 5
THE RICH WOMAN’S SCISSORS 7
SEPPY WORKING IN THE FIELDS 8
HOWEVER, THE PRIEST HAD A GLASS 9
SEPPY WAS VERY ANGRY WITH THE PIG 10
SHE GRADUALLY SLIPPED TO THE EDGE OF THE SLOPING ROOF 11
SEPPY WAS DRAWN UP THE CHIMNEY 13
THE DEATH, MISERY, THE OLD MAN, AND THE TREE 14
THE VILLAGE URCHINS CAME AND STOLE THEM OFF THE TREE 15
“HERE IS HALF A LOAF, TAKE IT; IT IS ALL I HAVE” 16
THE DEATH HANGING IN THE TREE 17
TWO MONKS OF THE CONVENT 18
HOW MANY COWS’ TAILS WOULD IT TAKE...? 19
WHAT IS THE DEPTH OF THE SEA 20
JOHN TWIST AND THE WITCHES 21
RUBBING IT ON HIS FACE AND HANDS 22
DREW THE PEAK OF HIS CAP OVER HIS EYES 23
THE PIG TRAVELLED VERY QUICKLY 24
THE MILL, TONY, AND HIS MOTHER’S HOUSE 25
“I SHALL BE IN A BAD WAY” 25
HE THEN CAME TO THE CHURCH 26
THE STORY OF THE BOY WHO ALWAYS SAID THE WRONG THING 27
THE BOY RUNNING AWAY 28
HOP-O’-MY-THUMB AND A DUCK 29
LOOKING UP HE ESPIED A LITTLE LADY 29
HOP-O’-MY-THUMB THREW THEM SOME CRUMBS 31
POOR LITTLE ANT 32
THE STORY OF HOP-O’-MY-THUMB 33
THE CAPTAIN, THE PEASANT, THE PARROT, AND THE EMPEROR 36
HE GAVE HIM BACK THE PARROT AS GALLANTLY AS HE COULD 37
HE KICKED AND STRUGGLED VIOLENTLY 38
A PEASANT WAS FORTUNATE ENOUGH TO CATCH IT 39
THE PARROT 41
THE BLACKSMITH VERHOLEN AND A DEVIL 42
A GENTLE KNOCKING AT THE DOOR 43
THE SHOE WAS TRIED ON 44
HE WISHED 45
OPEN THE DOOR, SMITH 46
THE LITTLE BLACKSMITH WAS SEATED ON A LOW STOOL 47
REST A WHILE IN THIS CHAIR 48
CLIMBED UP THE TREE LIKE A CAT 49
AS MUCH COAL AS HE COULD WISH 51
ORDERED THEM TO BURN THE DEVIL’S FEET 52
“I WILL MAKE MYSELF AS TALL AS THE TOWER” 53
IT WAS NOT A MESSENGER FROM HELL 54
HE WAS DRESSED IN DEEP BLACK 55
“LET THAT GOOD FELLOW HAVE A GLIMPSE OF HEAVEN” 57
“OOH! BOO! MY POOR HEAD!” 58
MILK-AND-HONEY AVENUE 60
BALTEN, THE BARREL, AND THE WOLF 61
THE WOLF STARED AT JACK 62
“BALTEN, POUR! BALTEN, POUR!” 63
THE LADDER BECAME YET HIGHER 65
ONE HAS A PAW BROKEN 66
THEY PUT HIM INTO AN EMPTY BARREL 67
BALTEN AND THE WOLF 68
THE MERMAID AND THE CHILD 69
SHE FELL ON HER KNEES 70
EVERY MORNING THE MERMAID LOOKED IN AT THE WINDOW 71
A NUMBER OF LITTLE GIRLS AND BOYS 73
THE MERMAID, THE MOTHER, AND HER DAUGHTER 74
THE HALF-COCK, THE TWO FOXES, AND THE TWO ROBBERS 75
“I WILL ENCHANT HIM” 76
THEY IMMEDIATELY MOUNTED TWO HORSES 77
THE HALF-COCK 78
THE WATER JOINED THE OTHER LODGERS 79
THE BLACKSMITH, THE DWARF, AND HIS HAT 81
“THIS LITTLE FELLOW CANNOT HARM ME” 82
THEY WANTED TO FIND OUT HOW IT WAS DONE 83
ANOTHER SET OF VERY FINE MATERIAL 84
THE DWARF DISAPPEARED 85
THE WIZARD, THE TURKEY, AND THE COUNTESS 86
THE NECESSARY INGREDIENTS FOR A NICE HOTCHPOTCH 87
“IF I COULD DISCOVER THE THIEF” 88
ONE OF THEM WHISPERED TO THE OTHERS 89
TO OFFER HIM PART OF THEIR SAVINGS 90
THREW IT TO SOME GEESE AND TURKEYS 91
THE COUNTESS HAD TWO DISHES PLACED BEFORE HIM 92
THE SNAIL 93
SIMPLE JOHN 94
THE BRUSSELS MARKET 95
“LIVER, KIDNEYS, SAUSAGES” 96
THE EXCHANGES OF SIMPLE JOHN 97
THE TWO CHICKENS 100
THE FIRST THING HE DID WAS TO TAKE UP HIS KNIFE 101
THE COUSIN AND THE KNIFE 102
BEMOANING HER FATE AND REPROACHING THE ALMIGHTY 104
THE FISHERMAN, THE FISH, THE SEA-KING, AND SUSIE GRILL 105
STOOD UP ON ITS TAIL 106
A LOVELY HOUSE WITH LOFTY TOWERS 107
SHE COUNTED IT WITHOUT CEASING 109
“I AM NOT DISSATISFIED WITH WHAT YOU HAVE DONE” 110
HE SOON CAUGHT THE FISH 111
A MIGHTY SEA-KING 113
IN FRONT OF THE BATHING-MACHINE 114
THE COBBLER AND HIS WIFE 115
THE FRYING-PAN 116
NEITHER OF THEM WANTED TO RETURN THE FRYING-PAN 117
THE THREE FARMERS 118
HE BURST IT OPEN 119
THE WOLF WENT IN AND SAT DOWN 120
FARMER BROOM AND FARMER LEAVES CAME OUT ALIVE 121
DANCING FARMERS 122
LODEWYK AND HIS CARDS 123
LODEWYK 124
ANNIE THE WITCH ALWAYS CAME TO BLOW THEM DOWN 125
THE GIANT AND FIVE HIGHWAYMEN 126
HE NEVER LEFT HIS CASTLE EXCEPT TO INFLICT PUNISHMENT 127
SHE VENTURED TO TAKE A LITTLE WALK 128
TOOK HER FATHER’S HAND 129
HE WAS NO MORE THAN THREE FEET HIGH 130
LED BY TWO PAGES 131
ABOUT MIDNIGHT A TERRIBLE STORM AROSE 132
SHE RAN UP TO THE TOWER 133
HE LET FALL THE BUNCH OF KEYS 135
RIPE NUTS IN THEIR CUPS 136
I FILLED MY POCKETS 137
I SAW SOMETHING WHITE 138
COULD I DARE TO KNOCK? 139
BEHIND THOSE TWO LARGE TUBS 141
“I SMELL HUMAN FLESH” 141
I SAW HIS BODY 142
I WAS PERCHED THERE ON THE TOP OF THE TREE 144
“I HAVE JUST FALLEN DOWN THE CHIMNEY” 145
[Illustration]
[Illustration: ST. PETER AND THE TWO WOMEN]
THE RICH WOMAN AND THE POOR WOMAN
On a cold winter night, thousands of years ago, St. Peter took one of
his occasional walks on earth. Towards nightfall he knocked at a rich
peasant’s door. The farmer’s wife was busy making pancakes in her cosy
kitchen. Her little chubby baby was watching her as she poured the
batter into the frying-pan. She spied the stranger through the window,
and said to herself, “This fellow is attracted by the good smell, but I
do not waste my pancakes on strangers.” She sent the beggar away,
wishing him God-speed.
He went on his way, and presently arrived at a mud cabin, where a poor
widow lived with her six children. On hearing the old man begging her to
have pity on him for God’s sake, she opened the door and bade him stay
the night in her little hut. “Night is falling,” she said; “it is
bitterly cold, stay with us, and you shall have my bedroom. I will doze
in a chair near the fire.” The stranger gratefully accepted her offer,
and after having supped, retired to bed.
Before leaving the next day, he thanked the good woman, and said to her,
“Listen, little mother: as you welcomed me in your house, I give you a
wish; ask anything you like and you shall have it.” The good woman
thought at once of an unfinished roll of cloth which her dead husband
was weaving a little before his death. Without further hesitation, she
answered, “My good man, as you are so kind and so powerful, grant that
the work which I begin the first thing in the morning may continue all
day.” “It shall be as you wish,” said the stranger, as he bade her
good-bye. Her six children accompanied him to the outskirts of the
village, where they bade him God-speed.
[Illustration: SHE SENT THE BEGGAR AWAY, WISHING HIM GOD-SPEED]
Very early the next day the busy little woman began to measure the piece
of cloth, which was about twelve yards long. Marvellous to relate, she
measured and measured, and she found that when she had measured a
certain length of cloth the pattern, texture, and designs changed. She
then cut it off carefully and rolled it up, and thus as the day advanced
she had rolls of cloth of every imaginable shade, design, and material.
They filled the whole cabin to the rafters; there was scarcely room to
[Illustration: THE RICH WOMAN AND THE POOR WOMAN: THE TWO FARMS AT
CHRISTMAS EVE]
when he said, “Woman, I can give you nothing in return for your kind
hospitality, but I grant that the first work you undertake to-morrow
will last all day.” Then he went on his way.
The woman was overwhelmed with joy. “To-morrow we shall be very rich,”
she said to her husband. “I shall be more cunning than my neighbour; I
shall count money all day. I shall not waste a minute; I shall get up at
midnight, for before daybreak I must make some bags to pour our fortune
into.”
All that night she never closed her eyes; on the stroke of midnight she
sprang from her bed, and seizing the scissors she began to cut out the
bags. But strange to say, she cut and cut until all the stuff was in
fragments. Try as she would, she was obliged to go on cutting; she
seized linen, shirts, sheets, tablecloths, napkins, handkerchiefs; even
the window curtains did not escape. Then it was the turn of the
wardrobe. Throwing it open, she took out her husband’s wedding suit.
“Look!” she said, as she cut off his coat-tails, “these will make two
more bags. Here are strings for the bags,” she added, snipping off her
best bonnet-strings. She went on cutting without a pause. By night she
had cut up everything except the clothes she was wearing. Her husband
looked on at this terrible scene, howling with rage, while his wife
sighed and cried with vexation. There was nothing left; her husband only
managed to save the shirt he was wearing by running up the stairs as
midnight struck.
The news of this disaster spread like wild-fire far and wide, but no one
pitied the woman.
[Illustration]
[Illustration: SEPPY WORKING IN THE FIELDS]
THE STORY OF SEPPY WHO WISHED TO MANAGE HIS OWN HOUSE
Seppy and Bella lived together in a very small house. There was only one
room, which served as kitchen, bedroom, and stable for the animals.
All they possessed was a pig, a cow, and some hens. The pig lay on some
straw between two stakes in one corner of the room, the cow was tied up
to a wooden trough in another corner, the hens roosted on the rafters.
It was not a happy household; quarrels were frequent, and Seppy was
always finding fault with Bella. When he came in from his work at midday
the potatoes were either too hot or too cold, the soup too thick or too
thin, and he reproached Bella bitterly, declaring that she lived a life
of idleness, while he worked like a slave in the fields.
These scenes became so frequent that Bella grew tired of this
cat-and-dog life.
One day, when he began to grumble as usual, she defied him, insisting
that the next morning they should change places: she would go to work
like a slave in the fields, while he should stay at home to do the
cooking. “He will soon see,” she said, “that when all the work has been
done properly, there is no time for twiddling one’s thumbs.”
Very early next morning Bella started off with a sack and a scythe to
cut grass for the animals.
Seppy remained at home and took off his coat, saying to himself, “I will
show her how clever I am.”
It was a Wednesday, the day for butter-making. Seppy put the churn on
the three-legged stool in the middle of the room, poured in the milk,
and began to churn gaily. He heard the milk beating against the sides of
the churn, and whistled happily as he worked.
Presently he heard the stout village priest tramping up the road. He
stopped at Seppy’s cottage, put his head in at the door and asked for a
glass of water, being very hot and red in the face from having walked so
far.
[Illustration: HOWEVER, THE PRIEST HAD A GLASS]
“Water is very dangerous; wouldn’t you rather have a small jug of beer?”
said Seppy. He left the churn and went to the beer-barrel which stood on
three bricks in a corner of the room, as far as possible from the fire.
The barrel had not been tapped. Seppy found the key and set about
piercing the bung, using his shoe instead of a hammer. He gave such a
heavy blow that he pierced right through the barrel. The beer ran all
over the floor. However, the priest had a glass, and, much refreshed, he
wished Seppy good day and went on his way.
“It is too bad to lose all this beer,” said Seppy. He turned the empty
barrel on end, mopped up the beer with a cloth and squeezed it into the
barrel, and so succeeded in saving a little.
Meanwhile the pig, attracted by the smell of the beer, set to work to
lap it up greedily until he could not swallow another drop.
Seppy was very angry with the pig and gave him a blow, but as it showed
no inclination to lie down, he hit it so hard that it rushed out of the
door and fell into the well. Now the well was very deep, and Seppy tried
to drag the pig out, but in vain, and it was drowned.
“The beer is spilt and the pig is drowned,” thought Seppy; “if any
misfortune overtakes the cow, or I fail to churn the milk into butter, I
shall be for ever disgraced in Bella’s eyes.”
[Illustration: SEPPY WAS VERY ANGRY WITH THE PIG]
He then remembered that the cow had had nothing to eat, and that he had
to prepare the soup before Bella came back. “Now I’m going to work
methodically,” he said; “I will hang the stock-pot over the fire, then
take Molly to graze in the field, and then finish making the butter.”
The fire soon burnt up. When he led the cow outside he couldn’t find any
grass near the house, but he saw some growing on the roof! Choosing the
spot where the roof sloped very low, he succeeded after frantic efforts
in hoisting Molly on to the roof. He was re-entering the house when it
occurred to him that Molly might slip off the roof into the well and be
drowned. He went to the well, cut the rope off the bucket and tied it
round the cow’s horns, throwing the other end down the chimney. He then
ran into the house, caught the end of the rope and tied it round his
leg.
“Now,” he said, “the cow cannot escape however much she may want to, and
Seppy will have made the butter and soup before midday.”
The cream again lashed the sides of the churn, but Seppy had no longer
the heart to sing; he was thinking about the spilt beer and the poor
drowned pig.
Meanwhile the cow grazed on the roof. The earth not
[Illustration: SHE GRADUALLY SLIPPED TO THE EDGE OF THE SLOPING ROOF]
being very firm, she gradually slipped to the edge of the sloping roof.
Suddenly, alackaday! she rolled off. As the result of her fall, Seppy
was drawn up the chimney, where the soup was boiling over the fire.
Poor Seppy hung head downwards as far up the chimney as Molly was off
the roof. To add to his misfortunes he had overturned the stool on which
stood the churn, and so upset all the cream over the floor.
When Bella came home at midday, the first thing that met her eye was the
cow, which being half strangled was dying outside the door. She quickly
cut the rope with her scythe. Imagine her horror when on entering the
cottage she found her husband hanging head downwards, dipping into the
stock-pot.
[Illustration: SEPPY WAS DRAWN UP THE CHIMNEY, WHERE THE SOUP WAS
BOILING OVER THE FIRE]
Seppy never grumbled again. From henceforth Bella busied herself with
her household duties. Seppy worked in the fields as before.
Seppy said to the pots, he said to the pans,
And likewise to the stools,
That men who try to do women’s work
Are all a parcel of fools.
[Illustration]
[Illustration: THE DEATH, MISERY, THE OLD MAN, AND THE TREE]
THE ENCHANTED APPLE-TREE
Once upon a time there lived an old woman whose name was Misery.
Her one and only possession was an apple-tree, and even this caused her
more pain than pleasure. When the apples were ripe, the village urchins
came and stole them off the tree.
This went on year after year, when one day an old man, with a long white
beard, knocked at Misery’s door. “Old woman,” he begged, “give me a
crust of bread.”
“You, too, are a poor miserable creature,” said Misery, who, although
she had nothing herself, was full of compassion for others. “Here is
half a loaf, take it; it is all I have, eat it in peace, and may it
refresh you.”
“As you have been so kind,” said the old fellow, “I will grant you a
wish.”
“Oh!” sighed the old woman, “I have only one desire, that is, that any
one who touches my apple-tree may stick to it until I set them free. The
way my apples are stolen from me is past all bearing.”
“Your wish is granted,” said the old fellow, and he went away.
[Illustration: THE VILLAGE URCHINS CAME AND STOLE THEM OFF THE TREE]
[Illustration: “HERE IS HALF A LOAF, TAKE IT; IT IS ALL I HAVE”]
Two days later Misery went to look at her tree; she found hanging and
sticking to the branches a crowd of children, servants, mothers who had
come to rescue their children, fathers who had tried to save their
wives, two parrots who had escaped from their cage, a cock, a goose, an
owl, and other birds, not to mention a goat. When she saw this
extraordinary sight, she burst out laughing, and rubbed her hands with
delight. She let them all remain hanging on the tree some time before
she released them.
The thieves had learnt their lesson, and never stole the apples again.
Some time passed by, when one day some one again knocked at old Misery’s
door.
“Come in,” she cried.
“Guess who I am,” said a voice. “I am old Father Death himself. Listen,
little mother,” he continued. “I think that you and your old dog have
lived long enough; I have come to fetch you both.”
[Illustration: THE ENCHANTED APPLE-TREE]
“You are all-powerful,” said Misery. “I do not oppose your will, but
before I pack up, grant me one favour. On the tree yonder there grow the
most delicious apples you have ever tasted. Don’t you think it would be
a pity to leave them, without gathering one?”
“As you ask me so graciously, I will take one,” said Death, whose mouth
was watering as he walked towards the tree. He climbed up to the topmost
branches to gather a large rosy apple, but directly he touched it, the
wretch remained glued to the tree by his long bony hand. Nothing could
tear him off, in spite of his struggles.
“There you are, old tyrant, hanging high and dry,” said Misery.
As a result of Death hanging on the tree, no one died. If persons fell
into the water they were not drowned; if a cart ran over them they did
not even notice it; they did not die even if their heads were cut off.
After Death had hung, winter and summer, for ten long years on the tree,
through all weathers, the old woman had pity on him, and allowed him to
come down on condition that she should live as long as she liked.
This, Father Death agreed to, and that is why men live longer than the
sparrows, and why Misery is always to be found in the world, and will
doubtless remain until the end of time.
[Illustration]
[Illustration: TWO MONKS OF THE CONVENT]
THE CONVENT FREE FROM CARE
Once when the Emperor Charles V was travelling in the country, he saw a
convent, and in passing by a little door he read this strange
inscription:
“Here you live without a care.”
The Emperor was very surprised and could scarcely believe his eyes.
“It seems to me an impossibility,” he thought; “does some one really
exist on earth who is free from care? As Emperor I am overwhelmed with
troubles, while here in this convent, which is a little kingdom in
itself, one would have nothing to worry about. I cannot believe it.”
Immediately on setting foot in the village inn, the Emperor sent the
hostess to fetch the Abbot of this singular convent.
You can imagine what a state of mind the latter was in when he heard he
was summoned to the Emperor’s presence.
“What have I done to displease him,” he asked himself. On the way he
examined his conscience over and over again, and he could think of no
fault of which he was guilty. “I am in troubled waters; I must steer my
way through,” he said.
When he was in the Emperor’s presence, the latter expressed his
astonishment at what he had read.
The Abbot now knew why he had been summoned, and smiled. “Sir,” said he,
“does that astonish you? However, it is very simple; we eat, we drink,
we sleep, and worry over nothing.”
“Well, Reverend Abbot, that state of things must come to an end,” said
the Emperor, “and in order that you may have your share of trouble, I
command you to bring me to-morrow the answers to the three following
questions:
“First, What is the depth of the sea?
“Secondly, How many cows’ tails would it take to measure the distance
between the earth and the sun?
“Thirdly, What am I thinking about?
[Illustration: HOW MANY COWS’ TAILS WOULD IT TAKE TO MEASURE THE
DISTANCE BETWEEN THE EARTH AND THE SUN?]
“Try to please me or I shall exact a penalty from you.”
On hearing these words, the Abbot returned to his convent with a heavy
heart. From that moment he knew no peace. He cudgelled his brains as to
what answer he could make to the Emperor.
When the little bell of the abbey rang, summoning the monks to prayer in
the chapel, the Abbot continued to pace his garden. He was so deep in
thought that he was quite oblivious of what was taking place around him.
Even if a thunderbolt had fallen at his feet, he would not have noticed
it.
“What a horrible thing,” he thought. “Is it possible that such a
misfortune has overtaken me? I cannot possibly answer. Who can save the
situation? Perhaps our shepherd could; he has a very lively imagination;
but talk of the devil----”
At that identical moment the shepherd appeared, leading his flock. He
was very surprised to see the Abbot, who was always without a care,
meditating in solitude.
What could have happened?
Without further ado he went to him, and asked him what was troubling him
so deeply.
“Yes, I deserve to be pitied,” said the Abbot, and he told him what had
happened.
“Why are you tormenting yourself over a little thing like that?” the
shepherd laughingly replied. “Leave it to me, and all will be well.
To-morrow I will come here and dress myself in your robe, and I will
turn the tables on him.”
At first the Abbot demurred, but in the end he yielded, and the matter
was settled.
[Illustration: “WHAT IS THE DEPTH OF THE SEA?”]
The next day the shepherd went boldly to find the Emperor.
“Well, Reverend Abbot,” the Emperor said with serenity, “have you found
out the answers?”
“Yes, certainly, sire.”
“Speak, I am listening.”
“Sire, the sea is as deep as a stone’s throw.
“To measure the distance between the earth and the sun, you only need
one cow’s tail, if it is long enough.
“Do you wish to know, sire, what you are thinking? Well, at this moment,
you think, sire, that the Abbot of the convent is in your presence, and
it is only his shepherd.”
The Emperor laughed so heartily that if he has not stopped laughing he
is laughing still.
[Illustration]
[Illustration: JOHN TWIST AND THE WITCHES]
THE WITCHES’ CELLAR
John Twist was courting a young girl who lived alone with her widowed
mother.
His friends warned him that they were both witches, and that he ought to
be very cautious, but he refused to believe them. One day, however, he
determined to discover if it were true.
That day when he visited his fiancée, he pretended to be very tired, and
after having chatted a while with the two women, he tipped his chair
against the wall, drew down the peak of his cap over his eyes, in order
to see what took place without appearing to do so, and feigned sleep.
“I think he is sleeping soundly,” the mother said to her daughter.
“I will make certain,” said the girl. She called him softly by name. The
young man apparently heard nothing, and never moved a muscle.
The two women were quite reassured. The mother put on a beautiful red
dress, and her daughter dressed herself in her best clothes. They then
removed two bricks from the back of the stove, took out a little jar of
pomade and rubbed it on their faces and hands.
When they had put everything carefully back in its place, they went
out.
Then John Twist got up, and creeping as quietly as a mouse to the door,
spied through the keyhole.
“Over hedges and fences, towards Spain, into the cellar,” he heard them
say, and at the same moment they disappeared from view.
“I must find out what it all means,” said the lover. He went to the
stove, took out the jar of pomade from its hiding-place, and after
rubbing it on his face and hands, said, “Through hedges and fences,
towards Spain, into the cellar.”
He was immediately lifted off his feet, and found himself flying through
the air like a bird. He very quickly arrived in a cellar in Spain. There
he saw the two witches, in a company composed of all nationalities. They
all appeared to be mad. Some wore stove-pipes or saucepans instead of
hats. Some were half man, half frog or stag. In one corner, mysterious
dishes were in course of preparation, under the direction of a crow in
spectacles, who was holding the recipe in his claw.
[Illustration: RUBBING IT ON HIS FACE AND HANDS]
John Twist was in a deplorable condition. His clothes were torn to
ribbons, and his skin was grazed all over.
“How is it that you have arrived in such a tattered state,” said his
fiancée.
“I said, ‘Through hedges and fences,’” replied John Twist; “you may not
believe me, but I assure you I have left half my clothing and skin
hanging on thorn-bushes and palings.”
“You ought to have said, ‘Over hedges and fences,’” said the girl.
The subject was then dropped.
The company then sat down to eat tarts and drink wine out
[Illustration: DREW THE PEAK OF HIS CAP OVER HIS EYES, IN ORDER TO SEE
WHAT TOOK PLACE]
of large goblets. A witch, in a large hat, with two black cats in
attendance, organized games. John Twist was so tired that he fell into a
deep sleep. When he awoke the entire company had vanished, with the
exception of an old man who was seated at a little table with a bottle
of wine before him, at the entrance to the cellar.
“Where are the two ladies I know?” asked John Twist.
“Gone,” he replied.
“How shall I return home?” asked John uneasily.
“There is one way,” said the little man; “ride astride this pig, and he
will take you home, but you must not utter a word on the way.”
“Oh, if that is all,” said John, “I know how to hold my tongue.”
So saying, he got on the pig’s back, and they started.
[Illustration: THE PIG TRAVELLED VERY QUICKLY]
The pig travelled very quickly, obstacles were nothing to him. He leapt
over hedges and ditches, until they reached a river twenty feet wide.
“We shall never arrive on the opposite bank,” thought John Twist, but
the thought had hardly occurred to him, when w-whip--the pig landed on
the other side.
“That was a splendid jump,” said John Twist. But, alack, the words were
hardly out of his mouth before he was struggling in the water.
How he succeeded in getting out again, I am sure I do not know.
[Illustration]
[Illustration: THE WITCHES’ CELLAR]
[Illustration: THE MILL, TONY, AND HIS MOTHER’S HOUSE]
THE BOY WHO ALWAYS SAID THE WRONG THING
Tony was a very foolish, stupid boy. One morning his mother sent him to
fetch a hundredweight of flour from the mill.
Knowing how silly he was, she said to him, “Tony, you will say to
yourself all the way there, a hundredweight of flour, a hundredweight of
flour.”
“Very well, mother,” he replied, and, slinging a sack over his shoulder,
he walked off to the mill.
Presently he reached a field where he saw a peasant sowing. When the
latter heard him say “A hundredweight of flour” instead of “Good
morning,” he shouted to him, half in anger, “I shall be in a bad way if
this piece of ground only yields a hundredweight of flour; say rather, I
wish you a thousand.”
[Illustration: “I SHALL BE IN A BAD WAY”]
“All right, I will say that,” said Tony, and he repeated, as he went on
his way, “I wish you a thousand.” After a time he saw a shepherd and his
dog struggling with a wolf. The man, thinking that Tony hoped he would
be attacked by a thousand wolves, cried out angrily, “What, you
good-for-nothing! Say rather, May the devil fly away with him.”
[Illustration: HE THEN CAME TO THE CHURCH ... ON TURNING THE CORNER HE
SAW A HOUSE ON FIRE]
“Good, I will say that,” answered Tony, and with these words on his lips
he arrived at a cemetery where at that moment a corpse was being buried.
“May the devil fly away with him,” said Tony.
The mourners were very indignant. “Wretched boy,” said the sexton, “say
rather, God rest his soul.”
“All right,” said Tony. He then repeated incessantly, “God rest his
soul.”
A passer-by who was dragging a dog to the river heard him, and cried,
“What! his soul, foolish boy! Say rather, Get out of the way, horrid
animal.”
“Good,” said Tony, and he repeated the new refrain.
[Illustration: THE STORY OF THE BOY WHO ALWAYS SAID THE WRONG THING]
He then came to the church, and at that moment a newly married pair came
out. When the bridegroom heard this strange greeting, he gave him a
sounding box on the ears. “There, I’ll teach you manners, you vulgar
little boy,” he said; “why don’t you say, It is a beautiful sight?”
On turning the corner of a street he saw a house on fire. Tony stopped a
moment and said, “It is a beautiful sight.”
The people who were bringing pails of water to put out the fire cried
angrily, “Say rather, I wish it were out.”
“All right, I will,” said Tony. He walked on. He was now only two
minutes from the mill; the smithy was the last house he had to pass.
The blacksmith had not begun his work at the usual time that day. He had
spent over a quarter of an hour trying to light his fire and had only
half succeeded.
“I wish it were out,” he heard some one say.
“Rascal!” shouted the smith. “How dare you make fun of a good Christian
man?” He seized his hammer and rushed outside. But Tony had such a holy
terror of this grimy man that he ran away as fast as his legs could
carry him, and is probably still running, in which case, no doubt, he
has met with many adventures on the way.
[Illustration]
[Illustration: HOP-O’-MY-THUMB AND A DUCK]
HOP-O’-MY-THUMB
Hop-o’-my-Thumb was a tiny little fellow about as tall as your thumb.
He and his mother lived in a little hut made of dried leaves.
The little fellow was very fond of pancakes, and on Christmas Eve he
begged his mother to make a dozen.
The latter replied, “Oh, Hop-o’-my-Thumb, my son, I have no butter,
wood, or milk, and we are too poor to buy such things.”
Hop-o’-my-Thumb was very sad and sat down on a stool by the fire, while
his mother went to fetch water from the stream.
Suddenly he heard some one call him, and looking up he espied a little
lady standing at his elbow.
[Illustration: LOOKING UP HE ESPIED A LITTLE LADY]
At first he was too much astonished to speak, but after a few seconds he
blurted out, “Who are you, little lady?” She replied, “Hop-o’-my-Thumb,
I am your fairy godmother, and because you are sad, and your mother is
so poor, for this day I grant you the strength to do anything you may
wish.” So saying, she vanished.
At first Hop-o’-my-Thumb thought he had been dreaming, and in order to
determine whether his fairy godmother had really paid him a visit, he
decided to put her words to the test. He seized his cap and ran to the
miller’s.
“Miller,” said Hop-o’-my-Thumb, “my mother would so like to make
pancakes on Christmas Eve, but we have no flour. Won’t you give us a
little?”
“Well, Hop-o’-my-Thumb,” said the miller, “if you can carry this
flour-bin away you can have it.”
“Do you mean that I can have whatever I can carry?” asked
Hop-o’-my-Thumb.
The miller nodded his assent, and Hop-o’-my-Thumb crawled under the mill
and carried it and the entire contents home.
Afterwards he went to the butter merchant. “Boss,” he said, “my mother
would so like to make pancakes, but she has not a scrap of butter.”
“Oh, all right, Hop-o’-my-Thumb,” said the boss, “if you can carry this
keg it is yours.”
“Ah! thank you,” replied Hop-o’-my-Thumb. In a second he was under the
keg, which moved off as if it had two legs.
From thence he went to a wealthy farmer who had been lopping his trees
the day before.
“Farmer,” said Hop-o’-my-Thumb, “can I have a little bundle of wood, my
mother wants to make pancakes.”
“Oh, it is you, little Hop-o’-my-Thumb,” said the farmer. “You can have
the whole stack if you can carry it.”
“I shall be ever grateful,” said Hop-o’-my-Thumb, and sliding under the
stack he carried it home.
They now only lacked milk. Hop-o’-my-Thumb went to the milkman, and
making a like request was given permission to carry away a whole can.
II
When the pancakes had been fried, and mother and son had enjoyed
themselves to the full, the farmer who had given them
[Illustration: HOP-O’-MY-THUMB AND THE ROBBERS]
the milk came to ask Hop-o’-my-Thumb’s mother if her son could take his
cows to graze the next day.
[Illustration: HOP-O’-MY-THUMB THREW THEM SOME CRUMBS]
Next morning Hop-o’-my-Thumb went off to the field, taking a large
pancake with him. On the way he came to a stream which was too wide for
him to jump.
Fortunately some ducks were swimming about. Hop-o’-my-Thumb, who was a
sharp little fellow, threw them some crumbs of pancake, which they
swallowed greedily.
In recognition of his kindness the largest duck took him on his back and
swam towards the opposite bank of the stream. In midstream he let poor
little Hop-o’-my-Thumb fall into the water. However, after giving the
ducks a few more crumbs he was landed safely on the other side on the
back of another duck.
Hop-o’-my-Thumb, tired by his walk and wet through, lay down in the
grass to rest. Presently an ant ran over the back of his hand. This so
annoyed Hop-o’-my-Thumb that he caught it and killed it.
No sooner had he done so than he heard some one calling him. He
recognized the voice of his fairy godmother, and looking up saw her in
the grass.
This time she looked angrily at him. “Oh, Hop-o’-my-Thumb,” she said, “I
am much disappointed in you. Up till now I have protected you because
you are such a little thing, but after your cruelty to the poor little
ant I withdraw my protection, and for one day you must suffer as do
other little things.” She then disappeared into the ground.
Hop-o’-my-Thumb was very ashamed of himself, and, feeling very
miserable, fell asleep.
Soon after a cow which was grazing in the field came up and swallowed
the little fellow.
[Illustration: POOR LITTLE ANT]
In the evening when the animals were driven into the shed, and the
milkmaid waited to milk the greedy cow, she heard some one singing:
“This cow swallowed me at dawn,
Here I feel so nice and warm.”
The maid was much frightened and ran to tell the farmer. The latter came
to listen and he heard the same thing.
“This cow swallowed me at dawn,
Here I feel so nice and warm.”
“I bet you ten to one it is Hop-o’-my-Thumb,” said the farmer. “There is
only one thing to be done; we must slaughter the cow in order to rescue
him.”
While the animal was being cut up, a poor woman passed and begged the
farmer to give her a small piece of meat.
As luck would have it she received the very piece in which
Hop-o’-my-Thumb was embedded. She put her present into her basket and
went her way. Suddenly Hop-o’-my-Thumb began to sing:
“This cow swallowed me at dawn,
Here I feel so nice and warm.”
[Illustration:
I. THE KEG MOVED AS IF IT HAD LEGS
II. HE CARRIED IT HOME
III. MOTHER AND SON ENJOYED THEMSELVES
IV. SWALLOWED THE LITTLE FELLOW
V. STUCK THE POINT INTO THE SOLDIER’S LEG
VI. WAS PUSHED THROUGH THE VENTILATOR
]
“Lord have mercy, this place is haunted,” cried the poor woman, and,
flinging away the bag, she ran for her life.
Hop-o’-my-Thumb was greatly pleased and crawled out of the piece of
meat.
At that moment he saw a soldier who had had too much to drink staggering
along, so he quickly hid himself in a mole-hole. The soldier fell down
on the hole and went to sleep.
Hop-o’-my-Thumb pulled his knife out of his pocket and stuck the point
into the soldier’s leg. The latter bounded on to his feet, stamped
savagely on the hole, and returned home.
Hop-o’-my-Thumb was now a prisoner; the soldier had stamped the ground
so hard that it was impossible to get out. He heard people coming down
the road, and on overhearing their conversation, concluded they were
robbers. He cried out, “Captain, if you will let me out of this hole, I
will follow you and be your faithful servant.”
“What is this whispering I hear?” said the captain.
Every one listened attentively, and finally they were able to catch what
little Hop-o’-my-Thumb was saying. They scraped the earth away, and
Hop-o’-my-Thumb appeared. He was at once enrolled as a member of the
band.
The same night the robbers went to a provision shop. Hop-o’-my-Thumb was
pushed through the ventilator, and handed a number of cheeses through
this opening. He then went to the cellar where the eggs were stored, but
he made such a noise that the servant jumped out of bed to see what was
happening. Quick as lightning, Hop-o’-my-Thumb crept under an egg. The
servant was about to crush the egg with his foot, when the clock struck
midnight. Hop-o’-my-Thumb felt himself lifted into the air. He was drawn
out through the cellar window, and presently found himself at the door
of his mother’s cottage. He knew that his fairy godmother had saved him,
and from that day forward he never did anything to forfeit her
protection.
[Illustration]
[Illustration: THE CAPTAIN, THE PEASANT, THE PARROT, AND THE EMPEROR]
THE EMPEROR’S PARROT
One day a parrot belonging to the Emperor Charlemagne escaped from its
cage and could nowhere be found.
The Emperor, who was very fond of this parrot, which was a lovely bird,
and could talk very well, promised a handsome reward for its recovery.
A peasant was fortunate enough to catch it one morning. “What luck to be
able to see the Emperor,” he said, “and to be assured of being well
received.”
Without further delay he talked the matter over with Caroline, his wife,
in order to settle what he should wear and how he should behave at
Court.
He decided to start on his journey the following Sunday.
He carefully brushed his wedding suit before putting it on, and thus in
his Sunday best, with shining boots and chimney-pot hat, he set out for
the Flemish town, carrying the parrot.
On his arrival at Ghent, he boldly entered the palace. Suddenly a loud
voice cried, “Stop, peasant, do not approach a step nearer.”
It was the captain of the guard who tried to prevent our hero from
entering.
[Illustration: HE GAVE HIM BACK THE PARROT AS GALLANTLY AS HE COULD]
The peasant was not to be so easily deterred and said determinedly, “I
demand an audience with the Emperor.”
“What have you to say to him?” asked the captain.
“I am bringing back the Emperor’s parrot,” the peasant replied, and
proudly drawing his coat-tails on one side he showed the cage containing
the bird.
“Oh, that somewhat alters the case,” replied the captain, who knew that
the Emperor was searching for the bird and would reward the finder
handsomely. “Nevertheless,” he continued, “I shall not permit you to
pass unless you promise to give me half the reward.”
“I agree,” said the peasant, and he went in.
When he was in the Emperor’s presence he gave him back the parrot as
gallantly as he could. The Emperor was overjoyed to have his favourite
bird again, and gave orders that the promised reward should be given to
the peasant. But our hero said, “May I be allowed to make a
suggestion?”
“Certainly,” said the Emperor; “ask what you will.”
“Very well, instead of giving me money, I beg you to give me a couple of
blows.”
At first the Emperor and his courtiers were much astonished, and then
they burst out laughing.
They naturally thought the man was joking, but seeing that he was quite
serious and insisted, the Emperor gave him the two blows he desired.
The little peasant bowed respectfully and left the hall with a smile on
his face. When a good distance away he could still hear the courtiers
laughing. With an indifferent air he passed the gateway, having
apparently quite forgotten his promise to the captain of the guard.
“Hallo! my good man,” cried the captain, “where are you off to in such a
hurry?”
“I am going home,” he replied.
“Yes, but do you not remember that in order to gain an entrance you
promised me half your reward?”
“It is true, you are right,” said the peasant, and turning round quite
close to the captain, he gave him such a blow in the face that he saw
stars. I leave you to imagine the captain’s anger.
[Illustration: HE KICKED AND STRUGGLED VIOLENTLY]
“Scamp, good-for-nothing,” he cried. “I will pay you out for this.
Arrest this vulgar person,” he ordered, “and lock him up in the prison.”
Our peasant, however, had no intention of being led like a lamb to the
slaughter. He kicked and struggled violently, and made such an uproar in
the guard-room that the Emperor heard it.
The latter soon arrived on the scene and was struck dumb on hearing that
the peasant had had the effrontery to strike a
[Illustration: A PEASANT WAS FORTUNATE ENOUGH TO CATCH IT]
superior officer in the face. It was too much. The Emperor told the
peasant what a very serious offence he had committed in flouting the
military authority.
“Sir,” said the good man, “I have in no way flouted the authority of the
guard.”
“Come, come,” said the Emperor, “how can you deny it, when you have even
dared to strike the captain?”
“Sir, if I did it, it was at his own request,” replied the man coolly.
“What do you mean?”
“Sir, I could only obtain audience of your Majesty after having promised
to give half my reward to the captain. Did I not receive two blows as
reward, and ought I not to give him one of them? That is the whole
matter; let your Majesty judge for himself.”
On hearing these words the Emperor turned to his courtiers and said, “I
believe this peasant to be blessed with more than ordinary intelligence,
and that he could render us great service in State affairs.”
Our hero returned home, and after a few days was summoned to the Court
to take up an important office.
The captain of the guard, on the contrary, was dismissed in disgrace.
[Illustration]
[Illustration: THE BLACKSMITH VERHOLEN AND A DEVIL]
THE LITTLE BLACKSMITH VERHOLEN
The little blacksmith was seated on a low stool with his elbows on his
anvil, a prey to gloomy thoughts.
Indeed, things were going very badly for him. He, who was formerly the
merry wag of the village, scarcely dared to go out for fear of meeting
his friends and acquaintances, whose indiscreet questions made him blush
with shame.
Gone were the days when his anvil rang merrily under the blows of ten
workmen from dawn till often far into the night. Gone also the days when
the savoury smell of ham and sausages pervaded the house, and his cellar
was well stocked with barrels of delightful Brussels beer. The workmen
had all left; there was now barely enough work for one. There was dearth
in the kitchen, and Smith’s brewer lived at the bottom of a brick well,
under the walnut-tree in front of his door.
He had lost all his customers. It was useless to give him work, as he
had no money with which to procure the necessary materials. Of iron
there were a few rusty scraps in the corners. Of coal there was hardly
enough to heat the oven for an hour, and he was unable to buy any more.
[Illustration: A GENTLE KNOCKING AT THE DOOR]
Yes! the village urchins spoke true when they sang outside his window in
the evening:
Smith Verholen,
Smith Verholen,
Without wood and without coal,
Without iron and without lead,
Ah! is Smith Verholen dead?
Dead! No, he did not wish to die, however miserable he felt, for that
would mean the end of all things, and one is dead such a long time!
He loved to live and to let live, and he still retained a grain of faith
in the old proverb, “While there is life there is hope.”
When evening fell, Smith, who for obvious reasons had no thoughts of
supper, was aroused from his dreams by a gentle knocking at the door.
No, that could not be an urchin playing him a trick, or a customer, as
every one in the village knew of his distress. A stranger perhaps?
Smith got up, opened the door, and saw an old man carrying a carpenter’s
bag and leading a donkey, on which sat a young woman, feeding her little
baby. By force of habit, Smith said, “What can I do for you, my friend?”
“Smith,” replied the old man, “I know it is a late hour to trouble you;
but we have come a very long way, and we have still a very long way to
travel to-night. My donkey has cast a shoe; I beg you to shoe the beast
at once, that we may continue our journey.”
“I would do so with pleasure, my friend,” said the blacksmith, “but I am
very much afraid I have not a horseshoe left. You have no doubt noticed
how poverty-stricken I am. However, come along.”
He immediately began to search right and left to see if he could
discover a small piece of iron.
“Perhaps I shall find enough to shoe your donkey, and then I shall be
very pleased to do what you ask.” He then turned to the young woman, who
had dismounted, and said, “Rest yourself in the kitchen. If there is
bread and milk in the larder, I pray you eat it. I possess very little,
but what I have is at your service.”
Smith unearthed an old shoe from a heap of old iron; the donkey was soon
tied up to the brake, and the fire was soon blazing with the help of the
bellows. The shoe was tried on, put back into the fire, and then on to
the anvil to round it with a stroke of the hammer, and everything was in
order.
[Illustration: THE SHOE WAS TRIED ON]
“What do I owe you, Smith?” asked the old man.
The blacksmith, who had noticed the stranger’s poor clothing and
downtrodden shoes, shrugged his shoulders, and thought to himself, “Can
I ask payment for such a small service from these poor creatures who
have a long journey before them? I should be ashamed to do so, although
I have not a penny to bless myself with.”
He answered, “You owe me nothing, my friend; I do it for you for pity’s
sake.”
The old man’s eyes shone with a strange light, and in a solemn voice he
said, “As you have helped me for the love of God, I grant you three
wishes. Whatever you may ask of my wife, little child, and I, we will
grant you.”
“Three wishes,” thought the smith; “no matter what I wish it will be
granted. These poor creatures so miserably clothed have the power to
grant them. Who can they be?”
Only half credulous, he wished that any one who sat in his chair should
be unable to get up without his consent; that any one who had the
audacity to climb up his walnut-tree should not come down unless he
wished it; and, lastly, that anything that was in his purse should
remain in it unless he wished otherwise.
“You might have wished for Heaven, and you wish for such childish
things, but never mind, your wishes are granted. Adieu, and once again
thank you for your kindness.”
[Illustration: HE WISHED]
In the darkening twilight, the trio set forth, and the smith standing at
his threshold saw luminous circles shining round their heads. He then
shut the door, locked it, and went to the kitchen to rest on the couch
he had placed there. He had hardly taken off his coat when--tap, tap,
tap--three short but loud knocks sounded at the door.
“Who is there?” asked the smith rather crossly.
No answer, but soon afterwards another knock.
“All right, who is there?” the smith cried louder.