Part 32

But when he pulled out the third, Farmer Weathersky roared so, the man thought roof and wall would have flown asunder, but for all that the snorer slept on.

After that the Eagle told him what he was to do. He went to the yard, and there at the stable-door he stumbled against a big gray stone, and that he lifted up; underneath it lay three chips of wood, and those he picked up too; then he knocked at the stable-door, and it opened of itself. Then he threw down the three crumbs of bread, and a hare came and ate them up; that hare he caught and kept. After that the Eagle bade him pull three feathers out of his tail, and put the hare, the stone, the chips, and himself there instead, and then he would fly away home with them all.

So when the Eagle had flown a long way, he lighted on a rock to rest.

“Do you see anything?” it asked.

“Yes”, said the man, “I see a flock of crows coming flying after us.”

“We’d better be off again, then”, said the Eagle, who flew away.

After a while it asked again:

“Do you see anything now?”

“Yes”, said the man; “now the crows are close behind us.”

“Drop now the three feathers you pulled out of his head, said the Eagle.

Well, the man dropped the feathers, and as soon as ever he dropped them they became a flock of ravens which drove the crows home again. Then the Eagle flew on far away with the man, and at last it lighted on another stone to rest.

“Do you see anything?” it said.

“I’m not sure”, said the man; “I fancy I see something coming far far away”.

“We’d better get on then”, said the Eagle; and after a while it said again:

“Do you see anything?”

“Yes”, said the man, “now he’s close at our heels.”

“Now, you must let fall the chips of wood which you took from under the gray stone at the stable door”, said the Eagle.

Yes! the man let them fall, and they grew at once up into tall thick wood, so that Farmer Weathersky had to go back home to fetch an axe to hew his way through. While he did this, the Eagle flew ever so far, but when it got tired, it lighted on a fir to rest.

“Do you see anything?” it said.

“Well! I’m not sure”, said the man; “but I fancy I catch a glimpse of something far away.”

“We’d best be off then”, said the Eagle; and off it flew as fast as it could. After a while it said:

“Do you see anything now?”

“Yes! now he’s close behind us”, said the man.

“Now, you must drop the big stone you lifted up at the stable door”, said the Eagle.

The man did so, and as it fell it became a great high mountain, which Farmer Weathersky had to break his way through. When he had got half through the mountain, he tripped and broke one of his legs, and so he had to limp home again and patch it up.

But while he was doing this, the Eagle flew away to the man’s house with him and the hare, and as soon as they got home, the man went into the churchyard and sprinkled Christian mould over the hare, and lo! it turned into “Jack”, his son.

Well, you may fancy the old dame was glad to get her son again, but still she wasn’t easy in her mind about his trade, and she wouldn’t rest till he gave her a proof that he was “master above all masters”.

So when the fair came round, the lad changed himself into a bay horse, and told his father to lead him to the fair. “Now, when any one comes”, he said, “to buy me, you may ask a hundred dollars for me; but mind you don’t forget to take the headstall off me; if you do, Farmer Weathersky will keep me for ever, for he it is who will come to deal with you.”

So it turned out. Up came a horse-dealer, who had a great wish to deal for the horse, and he gave a hundred dollars down for him; but when the bargain was struck, and Jack’s father had pocketed the money, the horse-dealer wanted to have the headstall. “Nay, nay!” said the man, “there’s nothing about that in the bargain; and besides, you can’t have the headstall, for I’ve other horses at home to bring to town to-morrow.”

So each went his way; but they hadn’t gone far before Jack took his own shape and ran away, and when his father got home, there sat Jack in the ingle.

Next day he turned himself into a brown horse, and told his father to drive him to the fair.

“And when any one comes to buy me, you may ask two hundred dollars for me—he’ll give that and treat you besides; but whatever you do, and however much you drink, don’t forget to take the headstall off me, else you’ll never set eyes on me again.”

So all happened as he had said; the man got two hundred dollars for the horse and a glass of drink besides, and when the buyer and seller parted, it was as much as he could do to remember to take off the headstall. But the buyer and the horse hadn’t got far on the road before Jack took his own shape, and when the man got home, there sat Jack in the ingle.

The third day, it was the same story over again: the lad turned himself into a black horse, and told his father some one would come and bid three hundred dollars for him, and fill his skin with meat and drink besides; but however much he ate or drank, he was to mind and not forget to take the headstall off, else he’d have to stay with Farmer Weathersky all his life long.

“No, no; I’ll not forget, never fear”, said the man.

So when he came to the fair, he got three hundred dollars for the horse, and as it wasn’t to be a dry bargain, Farmer Weathersky made him drink so much that he quite forgot to take the headstall off, and away went Farmer Weathersky with the horse. Now when he had gone a little way, Farmer Weathersky thought he would just stop and have another glass of brandy; so he put a barrel of red-hot nails under his horse’s nose, and a sieve of oats under his tail, hung the halter, upon a hook, and went into the inn. So the horse stood there and stamped and pawed, and snorted and reared. Just then out came a lassie, who thought it a shame to treat a horse so.

“Oh, poor beastie”, she said, “what a cruel master you must have to treat you so”, and as she said this she pulled the halter off the hook, so that the horse might turn round and taste the oats.

“I’M AFTER YOU”, roared Farmer Weathersky, who came rushing out of the door.

But the horse had already shaken off the headstall, and jumped into a duck-pond, where he turned himself into a tiny fish. In went Farmer Weathersky after him, and turned himself into a great pike. Then Jack turned himself into a dove, and Farmer Weathersky made himself into a hawk, and chased and struck at the dove. But just then a Princess stood at the window of the palace and saw this struggle.

“Ah! poor dove”, she cried, “if you only knew what I know, you’d fly to me through this window.”

So the dove came flying in through the window, and turned itself into Jack again, who told his own tale.

“Turn yourself into a gold ring, and put yourself on my finger”, said the Princess.

“Nay, nay!” said Jack, “that’ll never do, for then Farmer Weathersky will make the king sick, and then there’ll be no one who can make him well again till Farmer Weathersky comes and cures him, and then, for his fee, he’ll ask for that gold ring.”

“Then I’ll say I had it from my mother, and can’t part with it”, said the Princess.

Well, Jack turned himself into a gold ring, and put himself on the Princess’ finger, and so Farmer Weathersky couldn’t get at him. But then followed what the lad had foretold; the king fell sick, and there wasn’t a doctor in the kingdom who could cure him till Farmer Weathersky came, and he asked for the ring off the Princess’ finger for his fee. So the king sent a messenger to the Princess for the ring; but the Princess said she wouldn’t part with it, her mother had left it her. When the king heard that, he flew into a rage, and said he would have the ring, whoever left it to her.

“Well”, said the Princess, “it’s no good being cross about it. I can’t get it off, and if you must have the ring, you must take my finger too.”

“If you’ll let me try, I’ll soon get the ring off”, said Farmer Weathersky.

“No, thanks, I’ll try myself”, said the Princess, and flew off to the grate and put ashes on her finger. Then the ring slipped off and was lost among the ashes. So Farmer Weathersky turned himself into a cock, who scratched and pecked after the ring in the grate, till he was up to the ears in ashes. But while he was doing this, Jack turned himself into a fox, and bit off the cock’s head; and so if the Evil One was in Farmer Weathersky, it is all over with him now.

LORD PETER

Once on a time there was a poor couple, and they had nothing in the world but three sons. What the names the two elder had I can’t say, but the youngest he was called Peter. So when their father and mother died, the sons were to share what was left, but there was nothing but a porridge-pot, a griddle, and a cat.

The eldest, who was to have first choice, he took the pot; “for”, said he, “whenever I lend the pot to any one to boil porridge, I can always get leave to scrape it”.

The second took the griddle; “for”, said he, “whenever I lend it to any one, I’ll always get a morsel of dough to make a bannock.”

But the youngest, he had no choice left him; if he was to choose anything it must be the cat.

“Well!” said he, “if I lend the cat to any one I shan’t get much by that; for if pussy gets a drop of milk, she’ll want it all herself. Still, I’d best take her along with me; I shouldn’t like her to go about here and starve.”

So the brothers went out into the world to try their luck, and each took his own way; but when the youngest had gorse a while, the cat said:

“Now you shall have a good turn, because you wouldn’t let me stay behind in the old cottage and starve. Now, I’m off to the wood to lay hold of a fine fat head of game, and then you must go up to the king’s palace that you see yonder, and say you are come with a little present for the king; and when he asks who sends it, you must say, ‘Why, who should it be from but Lord Peter.’”

Well! Peter hadn’t waited long before back came the cat with a reindeer from the wood; she had jumped up on the reindeer’s head, between his horns, and said, “If you don’t go straight to the king’s palace I’ll claw your eyes out.”

So the reindeer had to go whether he liked it or no.

And when Peter got to the palace he went into the kitchen with the deer, and said: “Here I’m come with a little present for the king, if he won’t despise it.”

Then the King went out into the kitchen, and when he saw the fine plump reindeer, he was very glad.

“But, my dear friend”, he said, “who in the world is it that sends me such a fine gift?”

“Oh!” said Peter, “who should send it but Lord Peter.”

“Lord Peter! Lord Peter!” said the King. “Pray tell me where he lives”; for he thought it a shame not to know so great a man. But that was just what the lad wouldn’t tell him; he daren’t do it, he said, because his master had forbidden him.

So the King gave him a good bit of money to drink his health, and bade him be sure and say all kind of pretty things, and many thanks for the present to his master when he got home.

Next day the Cat went again into the wood, and jumped up on a red deer’s head, and sat between his horns, and forced him to go to the palace. Then Peter went again into the kitchen, and said he was come with a little present for the King, if he would be pleased to take it. And the King was still more glad to get the red deer than he had been to get the reindeer, and asked again who it was that sent so fine a present.

“Why, it’s Lord Peter, of course”, said the lad; but when the King wanted to know where Lord Peter lived, he got the same answer as the day before; and this day, too, he gave Peter a good lump of money to drink his health with.

The third day the Cat came with an elk. And so when Peter got into the palace kitchen, and said he had a little present for the King, if he’d be pleased to take it, the King came out at once into the kitchen; and when he saw the grand big elk, he was so glad he scarce knew which leg to stand on; and this day, too, he gave Peter many many more dollars—at least a hundred. He wished now, once for all, to know where this Lord Peter lived, and asked and asked about this thing and that, but the lad said he daren’t say, for his master’s sake, who had strictly forbidden him to tell.

“Well, then”, said the King, “beg Lord Peter to come and see me.”

Yes, the lad would take that message; but when Peter got out into the yard again, and met the Cat, he said,

“A pretty scrape you’ve got me into now, for here’s the King, who wants me to come and see him, and you know I’ve nothing to go in but these rags I stand and walk in.”

“Oh, don’t be afraid about that”, said the Cat; “in three days you shall have coach and horses, and fine clothes, so fine that the gold falls from them, and then you may go and see the king very well. But mind, whatever you see in the king’s palace, you must say you have far finer and grander things of your own. Don’t forget that.”

No, no, Peter would bear that in mind, never fear.

So when three days were over, the Cat came with a coach and horses, and clothes, and all that Peter wanted, and altogether it was as grand as anything you ever set eyes on; so off he set, and the Cat ran alongside the coach. The King met him well and graciously; but whatever the King offered him, and whatever he showed him, Peter said, ’twas all very well, but he had far finer and better things in his own house. The King seemed not quite to believe this, but Peter stuck to what he said, and at last the King got so angry, he couldn’t bear it any longer.

“Now I’ll go home with you”, he said, “and see if it be true what you’ve been telling me, that you have far finer and better things of your own. But if you’ve been telling a pack of lies, Heaven help you, that’s all I say.”

“Now, you’ve got me into a fine scrape”, said Peter to the Cat, “for here’s the King coming home with me; but my home, that’s not so easy to find, I think.”

“Oh! never mind”, said the Cat; “only do you drive after me as I run before.”

So off they set; first Peter, who drove after his Cat, and then the King and all his court.

But when they had driven a good bit, they came to a great flock of fine sheep, that had wool so long it almost touched the ground.

“If you’ll only say”, said the Cat to the Shepherd, “this flock of sheep belongs to Lord Peter, when the King asks you, I’ll give you this silver spoon”, which she had taken with her from the King’s palace.

Yes! he was willing enough to do that. So when the king came up, he said to the lad who watched the sheep,

“Well, I never saw so large and fine a flock of sheep in my life! Whose is it? my little lad.”

“Why”, said the lad, “whose should it be but Lord Peter’s.”

A little while after they came to a great, great herd of fine brindled kine, who were all so sleek the sun shone from them.

“If you’ll only say”, said the Cat to the neat-herd, “this herd is Lord Peter’s, when the King asks you, I’ll give you this silver ladle”; and the ladle too she had taken from the King’s palace.

“Yes! with all my heart”, said the neat-herd.

So when the King came up, he was quite amazed at the fine fat herd, for such a herd he had never seen before, and so he asked the neat-herd who owned those brindled kine.

“Why! who should own them but Lord Peter”, said the neat-herd.

So they went on a little further, and came to a great, great drove of horses, the finest you ever saw, six of each colour, bay, and black, and brown, and chesnut.

“If you’ll only say this drove of horses is Lord Peter’s when the King asks you”, said the Cat, “I’ll give you this silver stoop”; and the stoop too she had taken from the palace.

Yes! the lad was willing enough; and so when the King came up, he was quite amazed at the grand drove of horses, for the matches of such horses he had never yet set eyes on, he said.

So he asked the lad who watched them, whose all these blacks, and bays, and browns, and chesnuts were?

“Whose should they be”, said the lad, “but Lord Peter’s.”

So when they had gone a good bit farther, they came to a castle; first there was a gate of tin, and next there was a gate of silver, and next a gate of gold. The castle itself was of silver, and so dazzling white, that it quite hurt one’s eyes to look at in the sunbeams which fell on it just as they reached it.

So they went into it, and the Cat told Peter to say this was his house. As for the castle inside, it was far finer than it looked outside, for everything was pure gold—chairs, and tables, and benches, and all. And when the King had gone all over it, and seen everything high and low, he got quite shameful and downcast.

“Yes”, he said at last; “Lord Peter has everything far finer than I have, there’s no gainsaying that”, and so he wanted to be off home again.

But Peter begged him to stay to supper, and the King stayed, but he was sour, and surly the whole time.

So as they sat at supper, back came the Troll who owned the castle, and gave such a great knock at the door.

“WHO’S THIS EATING MY MEAT AND DRINKING MY MEAD LIKE SWINE IN HERE”, roared out the Troll.

As soon as the Cat heard that, she ran down to the gate.

“Stop a bit”, she said, “and I’ll tell you how the farmer sets to work to get in his winter rye.”

And so she told him such a long story about the winter rye.

“First of all, you see, he ploughs his field, and then he dungs it, and then he ploughs it again, and then he harrows it”; and so she went on till the sun rose.

“Oh, do look behind you, and there you’ll see such a lovely lady”, said the Cat to the Troll.

So the Troll turned round, and, of course, as soon as he saw the sun he burst.

“Now all this is yours”, said the Cat to Lord Peter. “Now, you must cut off my head; that’s all I ask for what I have done for you.”

“Nay, nay”, said Lord Peter, “I’ll never do any such thing, that’s flat.”

“If you don’t”, said the Cat,” see if I don’t claw your eyes out.”

Well! so Lord Peter had to do it, though it was sore against his will. He cut off the Cat’s head, but there and then she became the loveliest Princess you ever set eyes on, and Lord Peter fell in love with her at once.

“Yes! all this greatness was mine first”, said the Princess, “but a Troll bewitched me to be a Cat in your father’s and mother’s cottage. Now you may do as you please, whether you take me as your queen or not, for you are now king over all this realm.”

Well, well; there was little doubt Lord Peter would be willing enough to have her as his queen, and so there was a wedding that lasted eight whole days, and a feast besides; and after it was over, I stayed no longer with Lord Peter and his lovely queen, and so I can’t say anything more about them.

THE SEVEN FOALS

Once on a time there was a poor couple who lived in a wretched hut, far far away in the wood. How they lived I can’t tell, but I’m sure it was from hand to mouth, and hard work even then; but they had three sons, and the youngest of them was Boots, of course, for he did little else than lie there and poke about in the ashes.

So one day the eldest lad said he would go out to earn his bread, and he soon got leave, and wandered out into the world. There he walked and walked the whole day, and when evening drew in, he came to a king’s palace, and there stood the King out on the steps, and asked whither he was bound.

“Oh, I’m going about, looking after a place”, said the lad.

“Will you serve me?” asked the King, “and watch my seven foals. If you can watch them one whole day, and tell me at night what they eat and what they drink, you shall have the Princess to wife, and half my kingdom; but if you can’t, I’ll cut three red stripes out of your back. Do you hear?”

Yes! that was an easy task, the lad thought; he’d do that fast enough, never fear.