Part 25

At last they told the queen the lassie had said she was good to make up the piece of linen into shirts in four and twenty hours. Well, all happened as before; the lassie dared not say she couldn’t sew; so she was shut up again in a room by herself, and there she sat in tears and grief. But then another old wife came, who said she would sew the shirts for her if she would call her Aunt on the happiest day of her life. The lassie was only too glad to do this, and then she did as the old wife told her, and went and lay down to sleep.

Next morning when she woke she found the piece of linen made up into shirts, which lay on the table—and such beautiful work no one had ever set eyes on; and more than that, the shirts were all marked and ready for wear. So, when the queen saw the work, she was so glad at the way in which it was sewn, that she clapped her hands, and said:

“Such sewing I never had, nor even saw in all my born days”; and after that she was as fond of the lassie as of her own children; and she said to her:

“Now, if you like to have the Prince for your husband, you shall have him; for you will never need to hire work-women. You can sew, and spin, and weave all yourself.”

So as the lassie was pretty, and the Prince was glad to have her, the wedding soon came on. But just as the Prince was going to sit down with the bride to the bridal feast, in came an ugly old hag with a long nose—I’m sure it was three ells long.

So up got the bride and made a curtsey, and said: “Good-day, Auntie.”

“_That_ Auntie to my bride?” said the Prince.

“Yes, she was!”

“Well, then, she’d better sit down with us to the feast”, said the Prince; but, to tell you the truth, both he and the rest thought she was a loathsome woman to have next you.

But just then in came another ugly old hag. She had a back so humped and broad, she had hard work to get through the door. Up jumped the bride in a trice, and greeted her with “Good-day, Auntie!”

And the Prince asked again if that were his bride’s aunt. They both said Yes; so the Prince said, if that were so, she too had better sit down with them to the feast.

But they had scarce taken their seats before another ugly old hag came in, with eyes as large as saucers, and so red and bleared, ’twas gruesome to look at her. But up jumped the bride again, with her “Good-day, Auntie”, and her, too, the Prince asked to sit down; but I can’t say he was very glad, for he thought to himself: “Heaven shield me from such Aunties as my bride has!” So when he had sat awhile, he could not keep his thoughts to himself any longer, but asked,

“But how, in all the world, can my bride, who is such a lovely lassie, have such loathsome, misshapen Aunts?”

“I’ll soon tell you how it is”, said the first. “I was just as good-looking when I was her age; but the reason why I’ve got this long nose is, because I was always kept sitting, and poking, and nodding over my spinning, and so my nose got stretched and stretched, until it got as long as you now see it.”

“And I”, said the second, “ever since I was young, I have sat and scuttled backwards and forwards over my loom, and that’s how my back has got so broad and humped as you now see it.”

“And I”, said the third, “ever since I was little, I have sat, and stared, and sewn, and sewn and stared, night and day; and that’s why my eyes have got so ugly and red, and now there’s no help for them.”

“So! so! “said the Prince, “’twas lucky I came to know this; for if folk can get so ugly and loathsome by all this, then my bride shall neither spin, nor weave, nor sew all her life long.”

THE COCK, THE CUCKOO, AND THE BLACK-COCK

[This is another of those tales in which the birds’ notes must be imitated.]

Once on a time the Cock, the Cuckoo, and the Black-cock bought a cow between them. But when they came to share it, and couldn’t agree which should buy the others out, they settled that he who woke first in the morning should have the cow.

So the Cock woke first.

Now the cow’s mine! Now the cow’s mine! Hurrah! hurrah!

he crew, and as he crew, up awoke the Cuckoo.

Half cow! Half cow!

sang the Cuckoo, and woke up the Black-cock.

A like share, a like share; Dear friends, that’s only fair! Saw see! See saw!

That’s what the Black-cock said.

And now, can you tell me which of them ought to have the cow?

RICH PETER THE PEDLAR

Once on a time there was a man whom they called Rich Peter the Pedlar, because he used to travel about with a pack, and got so much money, that he became quite rich. This Rich Peter had a daughter, whom he held so dear that all who came to woo her, were sent about their business, for no one was good enough for her, he thought. Well, this went on and on, and at last no one came to woo her, and as years rolled on, Peter began to be afraid that she would die an old maid.

“I wonder now”, he said to his wife, “why suitors no longer come to woo our lass, who is so rich. ’Twould be odd if no body cared to have her, for money she has, and more she shall have. I think I’d better just go off to the Stargazers, and ask them whom she shall have, for not a soul comes to us now.”

“But how”, asked the wife, “can the Stargazers answer that?”

“Can’t they?” said Peter; “why! they read all things in the stars.”

So he took with him a great bag of money, and set off to the Stargazers, and asked them to be so good as to look at the stars, and tell him the husband his daughter was to have. Well! the Stargazers looked and looked, but they said they could see nothing about it. But Peter begged them to look better, and to tell him the truth; he would pay them well for it. So the Stargazers looked better, and at last they said that his daughter’s husband was to be the miller’s son, who was only just born, down at the mill below Rich Peter’s house. Then Peter gave the Stargazers a hundred dollars, and went home with the answer he had got. Now, he thought it too good a joke that his daughter should wed one so newly born, and of such poor estate. He said this to his wife, and added:

“I wonder now if they would sell me the boy; then I’d soon put him out of the way?”

“I daresay they would”, said his wife; “you know they’re very poor.”

So Peter went down to the mill, and asked the miller’s wife whether she would sell him her son; she should get a heap of money for him?

“No!” that she wouldn’t.

“Well!” said Peter, “I’m sure I can’t see why you shouldn’t; you’ve hard work enough as it is to keep hunger out of the house, and the boy won’t make it easier, I think.”

But the mother was so proud of the boy, she couldn’t part with him. So when the miller came home, Peter said the same thing to him, and gave his word to pay six hundred dollars for the boy, so that they might buy themselves a farm of their own, and not have to grind other folks’ corn, and to starve when they ran short of water. The miller thought it was a good bargain, and he talked over his wife; and the end was, that Rich Peter got the boy. The mother cried and sobbed, but Peter comforted her by saying the boy should be well cared for; only they had to promise never to ask after him, for he said he meant to send him far away to other lands, so that he might learn foreign tongues.

So when Peter the Pedlar got home with the boy, he sent for a carpenter, and had a little chest made, which was so tidy and neat, ’twas a joy to see. This he made water-tight with pitch, put the miller’s boy into it, locked it up, and threw it into the river, where the stream carried it away.

“Now, I’m rid of him”, thought Peter the Pedlar.

But when the chest had floated ever so far down the stream, it came into the mill-head of another mill, and ran down and hampered the shaft of the wheel, and stopped it. Out came the miller to see what stopped the mill, found the chest and took it up. So when he came home to dinner to his wife, he said:

“I wonder now whatever there can be inside this chest which came floating down the mill-head, and stopped our mill to-day?”

“That we’ll soon know”, said his wife; “see, there’s the key in the lock, just turn it.”

So they turned the key and opened the chest, and lo! there lay the prettiest child you ever set eyes on. So they were both glad, and were ready to keep the child, for they had no children of their own, and were so old, they could now hope for none.

Now, after a little while, Peter the Pedlar began to wonder how it was no one came to woo his daughter, who was so rich in land, and had so much ready money. At last, when no one came, off he went again to the Stargazers, and offered them a heap of money if they could tell him whom his daughter was to have for a husband.

“Why! we have told you already, that she is to have the miller’s son down yonder”, said the Stargazers.

“All very true, I daresay”, said Peter the Pedlar; “but it so happens he’s dead; but if you can tell me whom she’s to have, I’ll give you two hundred dollars, and welcome.” So the Stargazers looked at the stars again, but they got quite cross, and said,

“We told you before, and we tell you now, she is to have the miller’s son, whom you threw into the river, and wished to make an end of; for he is alive, safe and sound, in such and such a mill, far down the stream.”

So Peter the Pedlar gave them two hundred dollars for this news, and thought how he could best be rid of the miller’s son. The first thing Peter did when he got home, was to set off for the mill. By that time the boy was so big that he had been confirmed, and went about the mill and helped the miller. Such a pretty boy you never saw.

“Can’t you spare me that lad yonder?” said Peter the Pedlar to the miller.

“No! that I can’t”, he answered; “I’ve brought him up as my own son, and he has turned out so well, that now he’s a great help and aid to me in the mill, for I’m getting old and past work.”

“It’s just the same with me”, said Peter the Pedlar; “that’s why I’d like to have some one to learn my trade. Now, if you’ll give him up to me, I’ll give you six hundred dollars, and then you can buy yourself a farm, and live in peace and quiet the rest of your days.”

Yes! when the miller heard that, he let Peter the Pedlar have the lad.

Then the two travelled about far and wide, with their packs and wares, till they came to an inn, which lay by the edge of a great wood. From this Peter the Pedlar sent the lad home with a letter to his wife, for the way was not so long if you took the short cut across the wood, and told him to tell her she was to be sure and do what was written in the letter as quickly as she could. But it was written in the letter, that she was to have a great pile made there and then, fire it, and cast the miller’s son into it. If she didn’t do that, he’d burn her alive himself when he came back. So the lad set off with the letter across the wood, and when evening came on he reached a house far, far away in the wood, into which he went; but inside he found no one. In one of the rooms was a bed ready made, so he threw himself across it and fell asleep. The letter he had stuck into his hat-band, and the hat he pulled over his face. So when the robbers came back—for in that house twelve robbers had their abode—and saw the lad lying on the bed, they began to wonder who he could be, and one of them took the letter and broke it open, and read it.

“Ho! ho!” said he; “this comes from Peter the Pedlar, does it? Now we’ll play him a trick. It would be a pity if the old niggard made an end of such a pretty lad.”

So the robbers wrote another letter to Peter the Pedlar’s wife, and fastened it under his hat-band while he slept; and in that they wrote, that as soon as ever she got it she was to make a wedding for her daughter and the miller’s boy, and give them horses and cattle, and household stuff, and set them up for themselves in the farm which he had under the hill; and if he didn’t find all this done by the time he came back, she’d smart for it—that was all.

Next day the robbers let the lad go, and when he came home and delivered the letter, he said he was to greet her kindly from Peter the Pedlar, and to say that she was to carry out what was written in the letter as soon as ever she could.

“You must have behaved very well then”, said Peter, the Pedlar’s wife to the miller’s boy, “if he can write so about you now, for when you set off, he was so mad against you, he didn’t know how to put you out of the way.” So she married them on the spot, and set them up for themselves, with horses, and cattle, and household stuff, in the farm up under the hill.

No long time after Peter the Pedlar came home, and the first thing he asked was, if she had done what he had written in his letter.

“Aye! aye!” she said; “I thought it rather odd, but I dared not do anything else”; and so Peter asked where his daughter was.

“Why, you know well enough where she is”, said his wife. “Where should she be but up at the farm under the hill, as you wrote in the letter.”

So when Peter the Pedlar came to hear the whole story, and came to see the letter, he got so angry he was ready to burst with rage, and off he ran up to the farm to the young couple.

“It’s all very well, my son, to say you have got my daughter”, he said to the miller’s lad; “but if you wish to keep her, you must go to the Dragon of Deepferry, and get me three feathers out of his tail; for he who has them may get anything he chooses.”

“But where shall I find him?” said his son-in-law.

“I’m sure I can’t tell”, said Peter the Pedlar; “that’s your look-out, not mine.”

So the lad set off with a stout heart, and after he had walked some way, he came to a king’s palace.

“Here I’ll just step in and ask”, he said to himself; “for such great folk know more about the world than others, and perhaps I may here learn the way to the Dragon.”

Then the King asked him whence he came, and whither he was going?

“Oh!” said the lad, “I’m going to the Dragon of Deepferry to pluck three feathers out of his tail, if I only knew where to find him.”

“You must take luck with you, then”, said the King, “for I never heard of any one who came back from that search. But if you find him, just ask him from me why I can’t get clear water in my well; for I’ve dug it out time after time, and still I can’t get a drop of clear water.”

“Yes, I’ll be sure to ask him”, said the lad. So he lived on the fat of the land at the palace, and got money and food when he left it.

At even he came to another king’s palace; and when he went into the kitchen, the King came out of the parlour, and asked whence he came, and on what errand he was bound?

“Oh!” said the lad, “I’m going to the Dragon of Deepferry to pluck three feathers out of his tail.”

“Then you must take luck with you”, said the King, “for I never yet heard that any one came back who went to look for him. But if you find him, be so good as to ask him from me where my daughter is, who has been lost so many years. I have hunted for her, and had her name given out in every church in the country, but no one can tell me anything about her.”

“Yes, I’ll mind and do that”, said the lad; and in that palace too he lived on the best, and when he went away he got both money and food.

So when evening drew on again he came at last to another king’s palace. Here who should come out into the kitchen but the Queen, and she asked him whence he came, and on what errand he was bound?

“I’m going to the Dragon of Deepferry to pluck three feathers out of his tail”, said the lad.

“Then you’d better take a good piece of luck with you”, said the Queen, “for I never heard of any one that came back from him. But if you find him, just be good enough to ask him from me where I shall find my gold keys which I have lost.”

“Yes! I’ll be sure to ask him”, said the lad.

Well! when he left the palace he came to a great broad river; and while he stood there and wondered whether he should cross it, or go down along the bank, an old hunchbacked man came up, and asked whither he was going?

“Oh, I’m going to the Dragon of Deepferry, if I could only find any one to tell where I can find him.”

“I can tell you that”, said the man; “for here I go backwards and forwards, and carry those over who are going to see him. He lives just across, and when you climb the hill you’ll see his castle; but mind, if you come to talk with him, to ask him from me how long I’m to stop here and carry folk over.”

“I’ll be sure to ask him”, said the lad.

So the man took him on his back and carried him over the river; and when he climbed the hill, he saw the castle, and went in.

He found there a Princess who lived with the Dragon all alone; and she said:

“But, dear friend, how can Christian folk dare to come hither? None have been here since I came, and you’d best be off as fast as you can; for as soon as the Dragon comes home, he’ll smell you out, and gobble you up in a trice, and that’ll make me so unhappy.”

“Nay! nay!” said the lad; “I can’t go before I’ve got three feathers out of his tail.”

“You’ll never get them”, said, the Princess; “you’d best be off.”

But the lad wouldn’t go; he would wait for the Dragon, and get the feathers, and an answer to all his questions.

“Well, since you’re so steadfast I’ll see what I can do to help you”, said the Princess; “just try to lift that sword that hangs on the wall yonder.”

No; the lad could not even stir it.

“I thought so”, said the Princess; “but just take a drink out of this flask.”

So when the lad had sat a while, he was to try again; and then he could just stir it.

“Well! you must take another drink”, said the Princess, “and then you may as well tell me your errand hither.”

So he took another drink, and then he told her how one king had begged him to ask the Dragon, how it was he couldn’t get clean water in his well?—how another had bidden him ask, what had become of his daughter, who had been lost many years since?—and how a queen had begged him to ask the Dragon what had become of her gold keys?—and, last of all, how the ferryman had begged him to ask the Dragon, how long he was to stop there and carry folk over?? When he had done his story, and took hold of the sword, he could lift it; and when he had taken another drink, he could brandish it.

“Now”, said the Princess, “if you don’t want the Dragon to make an end of you, you’d best creep under the bed, for night is drawing on, and he’ll soon be home, and then you must lie as still as you can, lest he should find you out. And when we have gone to bed, I’ll ask him, but you must keep your ears open, and snap up all that he says; and under the bed you must lie till all is still, and the Dragon falls asleep; then creep out softly and seize the sword, and as soon as he rises, look out to hew off his head at one stroke, and at the same time pluck out the three feathers, for else he’ll tear them out himself, that no one may get any good by them.”

So the lad crept under the bed, and the Dragon came home.

“What a smell of Christian flesh”, said the Dragon.

“Oh, yes”, said the Princess, “a raven came flying with a man’s bone in his bill, and perched on the roof. No doubt it’s that you smell.”

“So it is, I daresay”, said the Dragon.

So the Princess served supper; and after they had eaten, they went to bed. But after they had lain a while, the Princess began to toss about, and all at once she started up and said:

“Ah! ah!”

“What’s the matter?” said the Dragon.

“Oh”, said the Princess, “I can’t rest at all, and I’ve had such a strange dream.”

“What did you dream about? Let’s hear?” said the Dragon.

“I thought a king came here, and asked you what he must do to get clear water in his well.”

“Oh”, said the Dragon, “he might just as well have found that out for himself. If he dug the well out, and took out the old rotten stump which lies at the bottom, he’d get clean water, fast enough. But be still now, and don’t dream any more.”