Once on a time there was a widower, who had a son and a daughter by his
first marriage. Both were good children, and loved each other dearly.
Some time after the man married a widow, who had a daughter by her
first husband, and she was both ugly and bad, like her mother. So from
the day the new wife came into the house there was no peace for her
stepchildren in any corner; and at last the lad thought he’d best go
out into the world, and try to earn his own bread. And when he had
wandered a while he came to a king’s palace, and got a place under the
coachman, and quick and willing he was, and the horses he looked after
were so sleek and clean that their coats shone again.
But the sister who stayed at home was treated worse than badly; both
her stepmother and stepsister were always at her, and wherever she
went, and whatever she did, they scolded and snarled so, the poor
lassie hadn’t an hour’s peace. All the hard work she was forced to do,
and early and late she got nothing but bad words, and little food
besides.
So one day they had sent her to the burn to fetch water: and what do
you think? up popped an ugly, ugly head out of the pool, and said:
“Wash me, you lassie.”
“Yes, with all my heart I’ll wash you”, said the lassie. So she began
to wash and scrub the ugly head; but truth to say, she thought it nasty
work.
Well, as soon as she had done washing it, up popped another head out of
the pool, and this was uglier still.
“Brush me, you lassie”, said the head.
“Yes, with all my heart I’ll brush you.”
And with that she took in hand the matted locks, and you may fancy she
hadn’t very pleasant work with them. But when she had got over that, if
a third head didn’t pop up out of the pool, and this was far more ugly
and loathsome than both the others put together.
“Kiss me, you lassie!”
“Yes, I’ll kiss you”, said the lassie, and she did it too, though she
thought it the worst work she had ever had to do in her life.
Then the heads began to chatter together, and each asked what they
should do for the lassie who was so kind and gentle.
“That she be the prettiest lassie in the world, and as fair as the
bright day”, said the first head.
“That gold shall drop from her hair, every time she brushes it”, said
the second head.
“That gold shall fall from her mouth every time she speaks”, said the
third head.
So when the lassie came home looking so lovely, and beaming as the
bright day itself, her stepmother and her stepsister got more and more
cross, and they got worse still when she began to talk, and they saw
how golden guineas fell from her mouth. As for the stepmother, she got
so mad with rage, she chased the lassie into the pigsty. That was the
right place for all her gold stuff, but as for coming into the house,
she wouldn’t hear of it.
Well, it wasn’t long before the stepmother wished her own daughter to
go to the burn to fetch water. So when she came to the water’s edge
with her buckets, up popped the first head.
“Wash me, you lassie”, it said.
“The Deil wash you”, said the stepdaughter.
So the second head popped up.
“Brush me, you lassie”, it said.
“The Deil brush you”, said the stepdaughter.
So down it went to the bottom, and the third head popped up.
“Kiss me, you lassie”, said the head.
“The Deil kiss you, you pig’s-snout”, said the girl.
Then the heads chattered together again, and asked what they should do
to the girl who was so spiteful and cross-grained; and they all agreed
she should have a nose four ells long, and a snout three ells long, and
a pine bush right in the midst of her forehead, and every time she
spoke, ashes were to fall out of her mouth.
So when she got home with her buckets, she bawled out to her mother:
“Open the door.”
“Open it yourself, my darling child”, said the mother.
“I can’t reach it because of my nose”, said the daughter.
So, when the mother came out and saw her, you may fancy what a way she
was in, and how she screamed and groaned; but, for all that, there were
the nose and the snout and the pine bush, and they got no smaller for
all her grief.
Now the brother, who had got the place in the King’s stable, had taken
a little sketch of his sister, which he carried away with him, and
every morning and every evening he knelt down before the picture and
prayed to Our Lord for his sister, whom he loved so dearly. The other
grooms had heard him praying, so they peeped through the key-hole of
his room, and there they saw him on his knees before the picture. So
they went about saying how the lad every morning and every evening
knelt down and prayed to an idol which he had, and at last they went to
the king himself and begged him only to peep through the key-hole, and
then His Majesty would see the lad, and what things he did. At first
the King wouldn’t believe it, but at last they talked him over, and he
crept on tiptoe to the door and peeped in. Yes, there was the lad on
his knees before the picture, which hung on the wall, praying with
clasped hands.
“Open the door!” called out the King; but the lad didn’t hear him.
So the King called out in a louder voice, but the lad was so deep in
his prayers he couldn’t hear him this time either. “OPEN THE DOOR, I
SAY!” roared out the King; “It’s I, the King, who want to come in.”
Well, up jumped the lad and ran to the door, and unlocked it, but in
his hurry he forgot to hide the picture. But when the King came in and
saw the picture, he stood there as if he were fettered, and couldn’t
stir from the spot, so lovely he thought the picture.
“So lovely a woman there isn’t in all the wide world”, said the King.
But the lad told him she was his sister whom he had drawn, and if she
wasn’t prettier than that, at least she wasn’t uglier.
“Well, if she’s so lovely”, said the King, “I’ll have her for my
queen”; and then he ordered the lad to set off home that minute, and
not be long on the road either. So the lad promised to make as much
haste as he could, and started off from the King’s palace.
When the brother came home to fetch his sister, the step-mother and
stepsister said they must go too. So they all set out, and the good
lassie had a casket in which she kept her gold, and a little dog, whose
name was “Little Flo”; those two things were all her mother left her.
And when they had gone a while, they came to a lake which they had to
cross; so the brother sat down at the helm, and the stepmother and the
two girls sat in the bow foreward, and so they sailed a long, long way.
At last they caught sight of land.
“There”, said the brother, “where you see the white strand yonder,
there’s where we’re to land”; and as he said this he pointed across the
water.
“What is it my brother says?” asked the good lassie.
“He says you must throw your casket overboard”, said the stepmother.
“Well, when my brother says it, I must do it”, said the lassie, and
overboard went the casket.
When they had sailed a bit farther, the brother pointed again across
the lake.
“There you see the castle we’re going to.”
“What is it my brother says?” asked the lassie.
“He says now you must throw your little dog overboard”, said the
stepmother.
Then the lassie wept and was sore grieved, for Little Flo was the
dearest thing she had in the world, but at last she threw him
overboard.
“When my brother says it, I must do it, but heaven knows how it hurts
me to throw you over, Little Flo”, she said.
So they sailed on a good bit still.
“There you see the King coming down to meet us”, said the brother, and
pointed towards the strand.
“What is it my brother says”, asked the lassie.
“Now he says you must make haste and throw yourself overboard”, said
the stepmother.
Well, the lassie wept and moaned; but when her brother told her to do
that, she thought she ought to do it, and so she leapt down into the
lake.
But when they came to the palace, and the King saw the loathly bride,
with a nose four ells long, and a snout three ells long, and a
pine-bush in the midst of her forehead, he was quite scared out of his
wits; but the wedding was all ready, both in brewing and baking, and
there sat all the wedding guests, waiting for the bride; and so the
King couldn’t help himself, but was forced to take her for better for
worse. But angry he was, that any one can forgive him, and so he had
the brother thrown into a pit full of snakes.
Well, the first Thursday evening after the wedding, about midnight, in
came a lovely lady into the palace-kitchen, and begged the
kitchen-maid, who slept there, so prettily, to lend her a brush. That
she got, and then she brushed her hair, and as she brushed, down
dropped gold, A little dog was at her heel, and to him she said:
“Run out, Little Flo, and see if it will soon be day.”
This she said three times, and the third time she sent the dog it was
just about the time the dawn begins to peep. Then she had to go, but as
she went she sung:
Out on you, ugly Bushy Bride,
Lying so warm by the King’s left side;
While I on sand and gravel sleep,
And over my brother adders creep,
And all without a tear.
“Now I come twice more, and then never again.”
So next morning the kitchen-maid told what she had seen and heard, and
the King said he’d watch himself next Thursday night in the kitchen,
and see if it were true, and as soon as it got dark, out he went into
the kitchen to the kitchen-maid. But all he could do, and however much
he rubbed his eyes and tried to keep himself awake, it was no good; for
the Bushy Bride chaunted and sang till his eyes closed, and so when the
lovely lady came, there he slept and snored. This time, too, as before,
she borrowed a brush, and brushed her hair till the gold dropped, and
sent her dog out three times, and as soon as it was gray dawn, away she
went singing the same words, and adding:
“Now I come once more, and then never again.”
The third Thursday evening the King said he would watch again; and he
set two men to hold him, one under each arm, who were to shake and jog
him every time he wanted to fall asleep; and two men he set to watch
his Bushy Bride. But when the night wore on, the Bushy Bride began to
chaunt and sing, so that his eyes began to wink, and his head hung down
on his shoulders. Then in came the lovely lady, and got the brush and
brushed her hair, till the gold dropped from it; after that she sent
Little Flo out again to see if it would soon be day, and this she did
three times. The third time it began, to get gray in the east; then she
sang,
Out on you, ugly Bushy Bride,
Lying so warm by the King’s left side;
While I on sand and gravel sleep,
And over my brother adders creep,
And all without a tear.
“Now I come back never more”, she said, and went towards the door. But
the two men who held the King under the arms, clenched his hands
together, and put a knife into his grasp; and so, somehow or other,
they got him to cut her in her little finger, and drew blood. Then the
true bride was freed, and the King woke up, and she told him now the
whole story, and how her stepmother and sister had deceived her. So the
King sent at once and took her brother out of the pit of snakes, and
the adders hadn’t done him the least harm, but the stepmother and her
daughter were thrown into it in his stead.
And now no one can tell how glad the King was to be rid of that ugly
Bushy Bride, and to get a Queen who was as lovely and bright as the day
itself. So the true wedding was held, and every one talked of it over
seven kingdoms; and then the King and Queen drove to church in their
coach, and Little Flo went inside with them too, and when the blessing
was given they drove back again, and after that I saw nothing more of
them.