Chapter VIII: Front Matter (8)

But when the time was getting over, she began to think about the skeins and to wonder if he had ‘em in mind. But not one word did he say about ‘em, and she thought he’d wholly forgotten ‘em.

However, the last day of the last month he takes her to a room she’d never set eyes on before. There was nothing in it but a spinning-wheel and a stool. And says he: “Now, my dear, here you’ll be shut in to-morrow with some victuals and some flax, and if you haven’t spun five skeins by the night, your head’ll go off.”

And away he went about his business.

Well, she was that frightened, she’d always been such a gutless girl, that she didn’t so much as know how to spin, and what was she to do to-morrow with no one to come nigh her to help her? She sat down on a stool in the kitchen, and law, how she did cry!

However, all of a sudden she heard a sort of a knocking low down on the door. She upped and oped it, and what should she see but a small little black thing with a long tail, that look up at her right curious, and that said:

“What are you a-crying for?”

“What’s that to you?” says she.

“Never you mind,” that said, “but tell me what you’re a-crying for.”

“That won’t do me no good if I do,” says she.

“You don’t know that,” that said, and twirled that’s tail round.

“Well,” says she, “that won’t do no harm, if that don’t do no good,” and she upped and told about the pies, and the skeins, and everything.

“This is what I’ll do,” says the little black thing: “I’ll come to your window every morning and take the flax and bring it spun at night.”

“What’s your pay?” says she.

That looked out of the corner of that’s eyes, and that said: “I’ll give you three guesses every night to guess my name, and if you haven’t guessed it before the month’s up you shall be mine.”

Well, she thought she’d be sure to guess that’s name before the month was up. “All right,” says she, “I agree.”

“All right,” that says, and law! how that twirled that’s tail.

Well, the next day, her husband took her into the room, and there was the flax and the day’s food.

“Now, there’s the flax,” says he, “and if that ain’t spun up this night, off goes your head.” And then he went out and locked the door.

He’d hardly gone, when there was a knocking against the window.

She upped and she oped it, and there sure enough was the little old thing sitting on the ledge.

“Where’s the flax?” says he.

“Here it be,” says she. And she gave it to him.

Well, come the evening a knocking came again to the window. She upped and she oped it, and there was the little old thing with five skeins of flax on his arm.

“Here it be,” says he, and he gave it to her.

“Now, what’s my name?” says he.

“What, is that Bill?” says she.

“Noo, that ain’t,” says he, and he twirled his tail.

“Is that Ned?” says she.

“Noo, that ain’t,” says he, and he twirled his tail.

“Well, is that Mark?” says she.

“Noo, that ain’t,” says he, and he twirled his tail harder, and away he flew.

Well, when her husband came in, there were the five skeins ready for him. “I see I sha’n’t have to kill you to-night, my dear,” says he; “you’ll have your food and your flax in the morning,” says he, and away he goes.

Well, every day the flax and the food were brought, and every day that there little black impet used to come mornings and evenings. And all the day the girl sat trying to think of names to say to it when it came at night. But she never hit on the right one. And as it got toward the end of the month, the impet began to look so maliceful, and that twirled that’s tail faster and faster each time she gave a guess.

At last it came to the last day but one. The impet came at night along with the five skeins, and that said:

“What, ain’t you got my name yet?”

“Is that Nicodemus?” says she.

“Noo, ‘tain’t,” that says.

“Is that Sammee?” says she.

“Noo, ‘tain’t,” that says.

“A-well, is that Methusalem?” says she.

“Noo, ‘tain’t that neither,” that says.

Then that looks at her with that’s eyes like a coal o’ fire, and that says: “Woman, there’s only to-morrow night, and then you’ll be mine!” And away it flew.

Well, she felt that horrid. However, she heard the king coming along the passage. In he came, and when he sees the five skeins, he says, says he:

“Well, my dear,” says he, “I don’t see but what you’ll have your skeins ready to-morrow night as well, and as I reckon I sha’n’t have to kill you, I’ll have supper in here to-night.” So they brought supper, and another stool for him, and down the two sat.

Well, he hadn’t eaten but a mouthful or so when he stops and begins to laugh.

“What is it?” says she.

“A-why,” says he, “I was out a-hunting to-day, and I got away to a place in the wood I’d never seen before. And there was an old chalk-pit. And I heard a kind of a sort of humming. So I got off my hobby, and I went right quiet to the pit, and I looked down. Well, what should there be but the funniest little black thing you ever set eyes on. And what was that doing, but that had a little spinning-wheel, and that was spinning wonderful fast, and twirling that’s tail. And as that span that sang:

“Nimmy nimmy not,
My name’s Tom Tit Tot.”

Well, when the girl heard this, she felt as if she could have jumped out of her skin for joy, but she didn’t say a word.

Next day that there little thing looked so maliceful when he came for the flax. And when night came, she heard that knocking against the window-panes. She oped the window, and that come right in on the ledge. That was grinning from ear to ear, and Oo! that’s tail was twirling round so fast.

“What’s my name?” that says, as that gave her the skeins.

“Is that Solomon?” she says, pretending to be afeard.

“Noo, ‘tain’t,” that says, and that came farther into the room.

“Well, is that Zebedee?” says she again.

“Noo, ‘tain’t,” says the impet. And then that laughed and twirled that’s tail till you couldn’t hardly see it.

“Take time, woman,” that says; “next guess, and you’re mine.” And that stretched out that’s black hands at her.

Well, she backed a step or two, and she looked at it, and then she laughed out, and says she, pointing her finger at it:

“Nimmy nimmy not,
Your name’s Tom Tit Tot.”

Well, when that heard her, that gave an awful shriek, and away that flew into the dark, and she never saw it any more.

_The Old Woman and her Pig_

Once upon a time an old woman was sweeping her little house, when, to her great joy, she found a silver sixpence.

“What,” said she, “shall I do with this little sixpence? I think I will go to market and buy a pig.” So the next day she went to market and bought a nice little white pig. She tied a string to one of the pig’s legs and began to drive him home.

On the way the old woman and her pig came to a stile, and she said:

“Please, pig, get over the stile.”
But the pig would not.

Just then a little dog came trotting up, and the old woman said to him:

“Dog, dog, bite pig;
Pig won’t get over the stile,
And I sha’n’t get home to-night.”
But the dog would not.

So the old woman held up her stick, and said:

“Stick, stick, beat dog;
Dog won’t bite pig;
Pig won’t get over the stile,
And I sha’n’t get home to-night.”
But the stick would not.

So the old woman gathered some bits of wood together to make a fire, and set them on fire, and then threw her stick into the fire and said:

“Fire, fire, burn stick;
Stick won’t beat dog;
Dog won’t bite pig;
Pig won’t get over the stile,
And I sha’n’t get home to-night.”
But the fire would not.

So the old woman fetched a pail of water that was standing near and said:

“Water, water, quench fire;
Fire won’t burn stick;
Stick won’t beat dog;
Dog won’t bite pig;
Pig won’t get over the stile,
And I sha’n’t get home to-night.”
But the water would not.

Then the old woman saw an ox coming; so she said:

“Ox, ox, drink water;
Water won’t quench fire;
Fire won’t burn stick;
Stick won’t beat dog;
Dog won’t bite pig;
Pig won’t go;
I see by the moonlight
It’s long past midnight;
Time pig and I were home an hour and a half ago.”
But the ox would not.

So the old woman turned around and saw a butcher, and she said:

“Butcher, butcher, kill ox;
Ox won’t drink water;
Water won’t quench fire;
Fire won’t burn stick;
Stick won’t beat dog;
Dog won’t bite pig;
Pig won’t go.
I see by the moonlight
It’s long past midnight;
Time pig and I were home an hour and a half ago.”
But the butcher would not.

So the old woman took a rope out of her pocket, and said:

“Rope, rope, hang butcher;
Butcher won’t kill ox;
Ox won’t drink water;
Water won’t quench fire;
Fire won’t burn stick;
Stick won’t beat dog;
Dog won’t bite pig;
Pig won’t go.
I see by the moonlight
It’s long past midnight;
Time pig and I were home an hour and a half ago.”
But the rope would not.

Just then a large brown mouse ran across the meadow, and she said:

“Mouse, mouse, gnaw rope;
Rope won’t hang butcher;
Butcher won’t kill ox;
Ox won’t drink water;
Water won’t quench fire;
Fire won’t burn stick;
Stick won’t beat dog;
Dog won’t bite pig;
Pig won’t go.
I see by the moonlight
It’s long past midnight;
Time pig and I were home an hour and a half ago.”
“Yes,” said the mouse, “I will, if you will give me some cheese.”

So the old woman put her hand in her pocket and found a nice piece of cheese; and when the mouse had eaten it:

The mouse began to gnaw the rope,
The rope began to hang the butcher,
The butcher began to kill the ox,
The ox began to drink the water,
The water began to quench the fire,
The fire began to burn the stick,
The stick began to beat the dog,
The dog began to bite the pig,
And the pig began to go.

But what time the old woman and her pig got home, you, nor I, nor nobody knows.

_The Story of the Three Little Pigs_

There was once an old sow with three little pigs, and as she had not enough to keep them, she sent them out to seek their fortune. The first that went off met a man with a bundle of straw, and said to him:

“Please, man, give me that straw to build me a house.”

Which the man did, and the little pig built a house with it. Presently came along a wolf, and knocked at the door, and said:

“Little pig, little pig, let me come in.”

To which the pig answered:

“No, no, by the hair of my chiny chin chin.”

The wolf then answered to that:

“Then I’ll huff, and I’ll puff, and I’ll blow your house in.”

So he huffed, and he puffed, and he blew the house in, and ate up the little pig.

The second little pig met a man with a bundle of furze and said:

“Please, man, give me that furze to build a house.”

Which the man did, and the pig built his house. Then along came the wolf, and said:

“Little pig, little pig, let me come in.”

“No, no, by the hair of my chiny chin chin.”

“Then I’ll huff, and I’ll puff, and I’ll blow your house in.”

So he huffed, and he puffed, and he puffed, and he huffed, and at last he blew the house down, and he ate up the little pig.

The third little pig met a man with a load of bricks, and said:

“Please, man, give me those bricks to build a house with.” So the man gave him the bricks, and he built his house with them. Then the wolf came, as he did to the other little pigs, and said:

“Little pig, little pig, let me come in.”

“No, no, by the hair on my chiny chin chin.”

“Then I’ll huff, and I’ll puff, and I’ll blow your house in.”

Well, he huffed, and he puffed, and he huffed and he puffed, and he puffed and he huffed; but he could _not_ get the house down. When he found that he could not, with all his huffing and puffing, blow the house down, he said:

“Little pig, I know where there is a nice field of turnips.”

“Where?” said the little pig.

“Oh, in Mr. Smith’s home field, and if you will be ready to-morrow morning I will call for you, and we will go together, and get some for dinner.”

“Very well,” said the little pig, “I will be ready. What time do you mean to go?”

“Oh, at six o’clock.”

Well, the little pig got up at five, and got the turnips before the wolf came (which he did about six), when he said:

“Little pig, are you ready?”

The little pig said: “Ready! I have been there and come back again, and got a nice potful for dinner.”

The wolf felt very angry at this, but thought that he would be even with the little pig somehow or other, so he said:

“Little pig, I know where there is a nice apple-tree.”

“Where?” said the pig.

“Down at Merry-garden,” replied the wolf, “and if you will not deceive me I will come for you at five o’clock to-morrow and get some apples.”

Well, the little pig bustled up the next morning at four o’clock, and went off for the apples, hoping to get back before the wolf came; but he had farther to go, and had to climb the tree, so that just as he was scrambling down from it, he saw the wolf coming, which, as you may suppose, frightened him very much. When the wolf came up he said:

“Little pig, what! are you here before me? Are they nice apples?”

“Yes, very,” said the little pig. “I will throw you down one.”

And he threw it so far that, while the wolf was gone to pick it up, the little pig jumped down and ran home. The next day the wolf came again, and said to the little pig:

“Little pig, there is a fair at Shanklin this afternoon. Will you go?”

“Oh, yes,” said the pig, “I will go; what time shall you be ready?”

“At three,” said the wolf. So the little pig went off before the time, as usual, and got to the fair, and bought a butter-churn, which he was going home with when he saw the wolf coming. Then he could not tell what to do. So he got into the churn to hide, and by so doing it turned round, and rolled down the hill with him inside, which frightened the wolf so much that he ran home without going to the fair. He went to the little pig’s house, and told him how frightened he had been by a great round thing which came down the hill past him. Then the little pig said:

“Hah, I frightened you then. I had been to the fair and bought a butter-churn, and when I saw you, I got into it, and rolled down the hill.”

Then the wolf was very angry indeed, and declared he _would_ eat up the little pig, and that he would get down the chimney after him. When the little pig saw what he was about, he hung on the pot full of water, and made up a blazing fire, and, just as the wolf was coming down, took off the cover, and in fell the wolf; so the little pig put on the cover again in an instant, boiled him up, and ate him for supper, and lived happy ever afterward.

_The Three Sillies_

Once upon a time there was a farmer and his wife who had one daughter, and she was courted by a gentleman. Every evening he used to come and see her, and stop to supper at the farmhouse, and the daughter used to be sent down into the cellar to draw the beer for supper. So one evening she had gone down to draw the beer, and she happened to look up at the ceiling while she was drawing, and she saw a mallet stuck in one of the beams. It must have been there a long, long time, but somehow or other she had never noticed it before, and she began a-thinking. And she thought it was very dangerous to have that mallet there, for she said to herself: “Suppose him and me was to be married, and we was to have a son, and he was to grow up to be a man, and come down into the cellar to draw the beer, like as I’m doing now, and the mallet was to fall on his head and kill him, what a dreadful thing it would be!” And she put down the candle and the jug, and sat herself down and began a-crying.

Well, they began to wonder up-stairs how it was that she was so long drawing the beer, and her mother went down to see after her, and she found her sitting on the settle crying, and the beer running over the floor. “Why, whatever is the matter?” said her mother. “Oh, mother!” says she, “look at that horrid mallet! Suppose we was to be married, and was to have a son, and he was to grow up, and was to come down to the cellar to draw the beer, and the mallet was to fall on his head and kill him, what a dreadful thing it would be!” “Dear, dear! what a dreadful thing it would be!” said the mother, and she sat her down aside of the daughter and started a-crying too. Then after a bit the father began to wonder that they didn’t come back, and he went down into the cellar to look after them himself, and there they two sat a-crying, and the beer running all over the floor. “Whatever is the matter?” says he. “Why,” says the mother, “look at that horrid mallet. Just suppose, if our daughter and her sweetheart was to be married, and was to have a son, and he was to grow up, and was to come down into the cellar to draw the beer, and the mallet was to fall on his head and kill him, what a dreadful thing it would be!” “Dear, dear, dear! so it would!” said the father, and he sat himself down aside of the other two, and started a-crying.

Now the gentleman got tired of stopping up in the kitchen by himself, and at last he went down into the cellar too, to see what they were after; and there they three sat a-crying side by side, and the beer running all over the floor. And he ran straight and turned the tap. Then he said: “Whatever are you three doing, sitting there crying, and letting the beer run all over the floor?” “Oh!” says the father, “look at that horrid mallet! Suppose you and our daughter was to be married, and was to have a son, and he was to grow up, and was to come down into the cellar to draw the beer, and the mallet was to fall on his head and kill him!” And then they all started a-crying worse than before. But the gentleman burst out a-laughing, and reached up and pulled out the mallet, and then he said: “I’ve traveled many miles, and I never met three such big sillies as you three before; and now I shall start out on my travels again, and when I can find three bigger sillies than you three, then I’ll come back and marry your daughter.” So he wished them good-by and started off on his travels, and left them all crying because the girl had lost her sweetheart.

Well, he set out, and he traveled a long way, and at last he came to a woman’s cottage that had some grass growing on the roof. And the woman was trying to get her cow to go up a ladder to the grass, and the poor thing durst not go. So the gentleman asked the woman what she was doing. “Why, look-ye,” she said, “look at all that beautiful grass. I’m going to get the cow on to the roof to eat it. She’ll be quite safe, for I shall tie a string round her neck, and pass it down the chimney, and tie it to my wrist as I go about the house, so she can’t fall off without my knowing it.” “Oh, you poor silly!” said the gentleman, “you should cut the grass and throw it down to the cow!” But the woman thought it was easier to get the cow up the ladder than to get the grass down, so she pushed her and coaxed her and got her up, and tied a string round her neck, and passed it down the chimney, and fastened it to her own wrist. And the gentleman went on his way, but he hadn’t gone far when the cow tumbled off the roof, and hung by the string tied round her neck, and it strangled her. And the weight of the cow tied to her wrist pulled the woman up the chimney, and she stuck fast half-way and was smothered in the soot.

Well, that was one big silly.

And the gentleman went on and on, and he went to an inn to stop the night, and they were so full at the inn that they had to put him in a double-bedded room, and another traveler was to sleep in the other bed. The other man was a very pleasant fellow, and they got very friendly together; but in the morning, when they were both getting up, the gentleman was surprised to see the other hang his trousers on the knobs of the chest of drawers and run across the room and try to jump into them, and he tried over and over again, and couldn’t manage it; and the gentleman wondered whatever he was doing it for. At last he stopped and wiped his face with his handkerchief. “Oh, dear,” he says, “I do think trousers are the most awkwardest kind of clothes that ever were. I can’t think who could have invented such things. It takes me the best part of an hour to get into mine every morning, and I get so hot! How do you manage yours?” So the gentleman burst out a-laughing, and showed him how to put them on; and he was very much obliged to him, and said he never should have thought of doing it that way.

So that was another big silly.

Then the gentleman went on his travels again; and he came to a village, and outside the village there was a pond, and round the pond was a crowd of people. And they had got rakes, and brooms, and pitchforks, reaching into the pond; and the gentleman asked what was the matter. “Why,” they said, “matter enough! Moon’s tumbled into the pond, and we can’t rake her out anyhow!” So the gentleman burst out a-laughing, and told them to look up into the sky, and that it was only the shadow in the water. But they wouldn’t listen to him, and abused him shamefully, and he got away as quick as he could.

So there was a whole lot of sillies bigger than those three sillies at home. So the gentleman turned back home again and married the farmer’s daughter, and if they didn’t live happy forever after, that’s nothing to do with you or me.

_The Cat and the Mouse_

The Cat and the Mouse
Played in the malt-house.
The Cat bit the Mouse’s tail off.

“Pray, puss,” said the Mouse, “give me my long tail again.”

“No,” said the Cat, “I’ll not give you your tail again till you go to the cow and fetch me some milk.”

First she leaped, and then she ran,
Till she came to the cow, and thus began:

“Pray, cow, give me some milk that I may give to the Cat, so she may give me my long tail again.”

“No,” said the cow, “I will give you no milk till you go to the farmer and get me some hay.”

First she leaped, and then she ran,
Till she came to the farmer, and thus began:

“Pray, farmer, give me some hay that I may give to the cow, so she may give me some milk that I may give to the Cat, so she may give me my long tail again.”

“No,” says the farmer, “I’ll give you no hay till you go to the butcher and fetch me some meat.”

First she leaped, and then she ran,
Till she came to the butcher, and thus began:

“Pray butcher, give me some meat that I may give to the farmer, so he may give me some hay that I may give to the cow, so she may give me some milk that I may give to the Cat, so she may give me my long tail again.”

“No,” said the butcher, “I’ll give you no meat till you go to the baker and fetch me some bread.”

First she leaped, and then she ran,
Till she came to the baker, and thus began:

“Pray, baker, give me some bread that I may give to the butcher, so he may give me some meat that I may give to the farmer, so he may give me some hay that I may give to the cow, so she may give me some milk that I may give to the Cat, so she may give me my long tail again.”

“Yes,” said the baker, “I’ll give you some bread,
But if you eat my meal, I’ll cut off your head.”

The baker gave the Mouse bread, which she brought to the butcher; the butcher gave the Mouse meat, which she brought to the farmer; the farmer gave the Mouse hay, which she brought to the cow; the cow gave the Mouse milk, which she brought to the Cat; and the Cat gave to the Mouse her long tail again.

_Hereafterthis_

Once upon a time there was a farmer called Jan, and he lived all alone by himself in a little farmhouse.

By and by he thought that he would like to have a wife to keep it all vitty for him.

So he went a-courting a fine maid, and he said to her: “Will you marry me?”

“That I will, to be sure,” said she.

So they went to church and were wed. After the wedding was over, she got up on his horse behind him, and he brought her home. And they lived as happy as the day was long.

One day Jan said to his wife: “Wife, can you milk-y?”

“Oh, yes, Jan, I can milk-y. Mother used to milk-y when I lived home.”

So he went to market and bought her ten red cows. All went well till one day when she had driven them to the pond to drink, she thought they did not drink fast enough. So she drove them right into the pond to make them drink faster, and they were all drowned.

When Jan came home she up and told him what she had done, and he said: “Oh, well, there, never mind, my dear; better luck next time.”

So they went on for a bit, and then one day Jan said to his wife: “Wife, can you serve pigs?”

“Oh, yes, Jan, I can serve pigs. Mother used to serve pigs when I lived home.”

So Jan went to market and bought her some pigs. All went well till one day, when she had put their food into the trough, she thought they did not eat fast enough, and she pushed their heads into the trough to make them eat faster, and they were all choked.

When Jan came home she up and told him what she had done, and he said: “Oh, well, there, never mind, my dear; better luck next time.”

So they went on for a bit, and then one day Jan said to his wife: “Wife, can you bake-y?”

“Oh, yes, Jan, I can bake-y. Mother used to bake-y when I lived home.”

So he bought everything for his wife so that she could bake bread. All went well for a bit, till one day she thought she would bake white bread for a treat for Jan. So she carried her meal to the top of a high hill, and let the wind blow on it, for she thought to herself that the wind would blow out all the bran. But the wind blew away meal and bran and all—so there was an end of it.

When Jan came home, she up and told him what she had done, and he said: “Oh, well, there, never mind, my dear; better luck next time.”

So they went on for a bit, and then one day Jan said to his wife: “Wife, can you brew-y?”

“Oh, yes, Jan, I can brew-y. Mother used to brew-y when I lived home.”

So he bought everything proper for his wife to brew ale with. All went well for a bit, till one day when she had brewed her ale and put it in the barrel, a big black dog came in and looked up in her face. She drove him out of the house, but he stayed outside the door and still looked up in her face. And she got so angry that she pulled out the plug of the barrel, threw it at the dog, and said: “What dost look at me for? I be Jan’s wife.” Then the dog ran down the road, and she ran after him to chase him right away. When she came back again, she found that the ale had all run out of the barrel, and so there was an end of it.

When Jan came home, she up and told him what she had done, and he said: “Oh, well, there, never mind, my dear; better luck next time.”

So they went on for a bit, and then one day she thought to herself, “’Tis time to clean up my house.” When she was taking down her big bed she found a bag of groats on the tester. So when Jan came home, she up and said to him: “Jan, what is that bag of groats on the tester for?”

“That is for Hereafterthis, my dear.”

Now, there was a robber outside the window, and he heard what Jan said. Next day, he waited till Jan had gone to market, and then he came and knocked at the door. “What do you please to want?” said Mally.

“I am Hereafterthis,” said the robber. “I have come for the bag of groats.”

Now the robber was dressed like a fine gentleman, so she thought to herself it was very kind of so fine a man to come for the bag of groats, so she ran up-stairs and fetched the bag of groats, and gave it to the robber and he went away with it.

When Jan came home she said to him: “Jan, Hereafterthis has been for the bag of groats.”

“What do you mean, wife?” said Jan.

So she up and told him, and he said: “Then I’m a ruined man, for that money was to pay our rent with. The only thing we can do is to roam the world over till we find the bag of groats.” Then Jan took the house-door off its hinges, “That’s all we shall have to lie on,” he said. So Jan put the door on his back, and they both set out to look for Hereafterthis. Many a long day they went, and in the night Jan used to put the door on the branches of a tree, and they would sleep on it. One night they came to a big hill, and there was a high tree at the foot. So Jan put the door up in it, and they got up in the tree and went to sleep. By and by Jan’s wife heard a noise, and she looked to see what it was. It was an opening of a door in the side of the hill. Out came two gentlemen with a long table, and behind them fine ladies and lords, each carrying a bag, and one of them was Hereafterthis with the bag of groats. They sat round the table, and began to drink and talk and count up all the money in the bags. So then Jan’s wife woke him up, and asked what they should do.

“Now’s our time,” said Jan, and he pushed the door off the branches, and it fell right in the very middle of the table, and frightened the robbers so that they all ran away. Then Jan and his wife got down from the tree, took as many moneybags as they could carry on the door, and went straight home. And Jan bought his wife more cows, and more pigs, and they lived happy ever after.

_Titty Mouse and Tatty Mouse_

Titty Mouse and Tatty Mouse both lived in a house,
Titty Mouse went a-leasing and Tatty Mouse went a-leasing,
So they both went a-leasing.
Titty Mouse leased an ear of corn, and Tatty Mouse leased an ear of
corn,
So they both leased an ear of corn.
Titty Mouse made a pudding, and Tatty Mouse made a pudding,
So they both made a pudding.
And Tatty Mouse put her pudding into the pot to boil,
But when Titty went to put hers in, the pot tumbled over, and scalded
her to death.

Then Tatty sat down and wept, and a three-legged stool said: “Tatty, why do you weep?” “Titty’s dead,” said Tatty, “and so I weep.” “Then,” said the stool, “I’ll hop.” So the stool hopped.

Then a broom in the corner of the room said: “Stool, why do you hop?” “Oh!” said the stool, “Titty’s dead, and Tatty weeps, and so I hop.” “Then,” said the broom, “I’ll sweep.” So the broom began to sweep.

“Then,” said the door, “Broom, why do you sweep?” “Oh!” said the broom, “Titty’s dead, and Tatty weeps, and the stool hops, and so I sweep.” “Then,” said the door, “I’ll jar.” So the door jarred.

“Then,” said the window, “Door, why do you jar?” “Oh!” said the door, “Titty’s dead, and Tatty weeps, and the stool hops, and the broom sweeps, and so I jar.”

“Then,” said the window, “I’ll creak.” So the window creaked. Now there was an old form outside the house, and when the window creaked, the form said: “Window, why do you creak?” “Oh!” said the window, “Titty’s dead, and Tatty weeps, and the stool hops, and the broom sweeps, the door jars, and so I creak.”

“Then,” said the old form, “I’ll run round the house.” Then the old form ran round the house. Now there was a fine large walnut-tree growing by the cottage, and the tree said to the form: “Form, why do you run round the house?” “Oh!” said the form, “Titty’s dead, and Tatty weeps, and the stool hops, and the broom sweeps, the door jars, and the window creaks, and so I run round the house.”

“Then,” said the walnut-tree, “I’ll shed my leaves.” So the walnut-tree shed all its beautiful green leaves. Now there was a little bird perched on one of the boughs of the tree, and when all the leaves fell, it said: “Walnut-tree, why do you shed your leaves?” “Oh!” said the tree, “Titty’s dead, and Tatty weeps, the stool hops, and the broom sweeps, the door jars, and the window creaks, the old form runs round the house, and so I shed my leaves.”

“Then,” said the little bird, “I’ll moult all my feathers.” So he moulted all his pretty feathers. Now there was a little girl walking below, carrying a jug of milk for her brothers’ and sisters’ supper, and when she saw the poor little bird moult all its feathers, she said: “Little bird, why do you moult all your feathers?” “Oh!” said the little bird, “Titty’s dead, and Tatty weeps, the stool hops, and the broom sweeps, the door jars, and the window creaks, the old form runs round the house, the walnut-tree sheds its leaves, and so I moult all my feathers.”

“Then,” said the little girl, “I’ll spill the milk.” So she dropped the pitcher and spilt the milk. Now there was an old man just by on the top of a ladder thatching a rick, and when he saw the little girl spill the milk, he said: “Little girl, what do you mean by spilling the milk? Your little brothers and sisters must go without their supper.” Then said the little girl: “Titty’s dead, and Tatty weeps, the stool hops, and the broom sweeps, the door jars, and the window creaks, the old form runs round the house, the walnut-tree sheds all its leaves, the little bird moults all its feathers, and so I spill the milk.”

“Oh!” said the old man, “then I’ll tumble off the ladder and break my neck.” So he tumbled off the ladder and broke his neck; and when the old man broke his neck, the great walnut-tree fell down with a crash, and upset the old form and house, and the house falling knocked the window out, and the window knocked the door down, and the door upset the broom, and the broom upset the stool, and poor little Tatty Mouse was buried beneath the ruins.

_The Magpie’s Nest_

Once upon a time all the birds of the air came to the Magpie and asked her to teach them how to build nests, for the Magpie is the cleverest of all at building. So she put them all around her and began to show them how to do it. First of all she took some mud and made a sort of round cake with it.

“Oh, that’s how it’s done,” said the thrush; and away it flew, and so that’s how thrushes build their nests.

Then the Magpie took some twigs and arranged them around in the mud.

“Now I know all about it,” said the blackbird, and off he flew; and that’s how the blackbirds make their nests to this very day.

Then the Magpie put another layer of mud over the twigs.

“Oh, that’s quite obvious,” said the wise owl, and away he flew; and owls have never made better nests since.

After this the Magpie took some twigs and twined them around the outside.

“The very thing!” said the sparrow, and off he went; so sparrows make rather slovenly nests to this day.

Well, then Madge Magpie took some feathers and stuff and lined the nest very comfortably with it.

“That suits me,” cried the starling, and off he flew; and very comfortable nests have starlings.

So it went on, every bird taking away some knowledge of how to build nests, but none of them waiting to the end. Meanwhile Madge Magpie went on working and working without looking up till the only bird that remained was the turtle-dove, and that hadn’t paid any attention all along, but only kept on saying its silly cry: “Take two, Taffy, take two-o-o-o.”

At last the Magpie heard this just as she was putting a twig across. So she said: “One’s enough.”

But the turtle-dove kept on saying: “Take two, Taffy, take two-o-o-o.”

Then the Magpie grew angry and said: “One’s enough, I tell you.”

Still the turtle-dove cried: “Take two, Taffy, take two-o-o-o.”

At last, and at last, the Magpie looked up and saw nobody near her but the silly turtle-dove, and then she grew very angry and refused to teach any more.

And that is why all the birds build their nests in different ways up to this day. Each one made off, you see, as soon as he thought he had learned the Magpie’s secret, and each is perfectly contented with his own way.

_Scrapefoot_

Once upon a time, there were three bears who lived in a castle in a great wood. One of them was a great big bear, and one was a middling bear, and one was a little bear. And in the same wood there was a fox who lived all alone. His name was Scrapefoot. Scrapefoot was very much afraid of the bears, but for all that he wanted very much to know about them. And one day as he went through the wood he found himself near the bears’ castle, and he wondered whether he could get into the castle. He looked all about him everywhere, and he could not see any one. So he came on very quietly, till at last he came up to the door of the castle, and he tried whether he could open it. Yes! the door was not locked, and he opened it just a little way, and put his nose in and looked, and he could not see any one. So then he opened it a little way farther, and put one paw in, and then another paw, and another, and another, and then he was all in the bears’ castle. He found he was in a great hall with three chairs in it—one big, one middling, and one little chair; and he thought he would like to sit down and rest and look about him; so he sat down on the big chair. But he found it so hard and uncomfortable that it made his bones ache, and he jumped down at once and got into the middling chair, and he turned round and round in it, but he couldn’t make himself comfortable. So then he went to the little chair and sat down in it, and it was so soft and warm and comfortable that Scrapefoot was quite happy; but all at once it broke to pieces under him and he couldn’t put it together again! So he got up and began to look about him again, and on one table he saw three saucers, of which one was very big, one was middling, and one was quite a little saucer. Scrapefoot was very thirsty, and he began to drink out of the big saucer. But he only just tasted the milk in the big saucer, which was so sour and so horrid that he would not taste another drop of it. Then he tried the middling saucer, and he drank a little of that. He tried two or three mouthfuls, but it was not nice, and then he left it and went to the little saucer, and the milk in the little saucer was so sweet and so nice that he went on drinking it till it was all gone.

Then Scrapefoot thought he would like to go up-stairs; and he listened and he could not hear any one. So up-stairs he went, and he found a great room with three beds in it; one was a big bed, and one was a middling bed, and one was a little white bed; and he climbed up into the big bed, but it was so hard and lumpy and uncomfortable that he jumped down again at once, and tried the middling bed. That was rather better, but he could not lie comfortably in it, so after turning about a little while he got up and went to the little bed; and that was so soft and so warm and so nice that he fell fast asleep at once.

And after a time the bears came home, and when they got into the hall the big bear went to his chair and said: “WHO’S BEEN SITTING IN MY CHAIR?” and the middling bear said: “WHO’S BEEN SITTING IN MY CHAIR?” and the little bear said: “_Who’s been sitting in my chair and has broken it all to pieces?_” And then they went to have their milk, and the big bear said: “WHO’S BEEN DRINKING MY MILK?” and the middling bear said: “WHO’S BEEN DRINKING MY MILK?” and the little bear said: “_Who’s been drinking my milk and has drunk it all up?_” Then they went up-stairs and into the bedroom, and the big bear said: “WHO’S BEEN SLEEPING IN MY BED?” and the middling bear said: “WHO’S BEEN SLEEPING IN MY BED?” and the little bear said: “_Who’s been sleeping in my bed?—and see, here he is!_” So then the bears came and wondered what they should do with him; and the big bear said: “Let’s hang him!” and then the middling bear said: “Let’s drown him!” and then the little bear said: “Let’s throw him out of the window.” And then the bears took him to the window, and the big bear took two legs on one side and the middling bear took two legs on the other side, and they swung him backward and forward, backward and forward, and out of the window. Poor Scrapefoot was so frightened, and he thought every bone in his body must be broken. But he got up and first shook one leg—no, that was not broken; and then another, and that was not broken; and another and another, and then he wagged his tail and found there were no bones broken. So then he galloped off home as fast as he could go, and never went near the bears’ castle again.

_The Wise Men of Gotham_

OF BUYING OF SHEEP

There were two men of Gotham, and one of them was going to market to Nottingham to buy sheep, and the other came from the market, and they both met together upon Nottingham bridge.

“Where are you going?” said the one who came from Nottingham.

“Marry,” said he that was going to Nottingham, “I am going to buy sheep.”

“Buy sheep?” said the other, “and which way will you bring them home?”

“Marry,” said the other, “I will bring them over this bridge.”

“By Robin Hood,” said he that came from Nottingham, “but thou shalt not.”

“By Maid Marian,” said he that was going thither, “but I will.”

“You will not,” said the one.

“I will,” said the other.

Then they beat their staves against the ground one against the other, as if there had been a hundred sheep between them.

“Hold in,” said one; “beware lest my sheep leap over the bridge.”

“I care not,” said the other; “they shall not come this way.”

“But they shall,” said the other.

Then the other said: “If that thou make much to do, I will put my fingers in thy mouth.”

“Will you?” said the other.

Now, as they were at their contention, another man of Gotham came from the market with a sack of meal upon a horse, and seeing and hearing his neighbors at strife about sheep, though there were none between them, said:

“Ah, fools! will you ever learn wisdom? Help me, and lay my sack upon my shoulders.”

They did so, and he went to the side of the bridge, unloosened the mouth of the sack, and shook all his meal out into the river.

“Now, neighbors,” he said, “how much meal is there in my sack?”

“Marry,” said they, “there is none at all.”

“Now, by my faith,” said he, “even as much wit as is in your two heads to stir up strife about a thing you have not.”

Which was the wisest of these three persons, judge yourself.

OF HEDGING A CUCKOO

Once upon a time the men of Gotham would have kept the cuckoo so that she might sing all the year, and in the midst of their town they made a hedge round in compass, and they got a cuckoo, and put her into it, and said: “Sing there all through the year, or thou shalt have neither meat nor water.” The cuckoo, as soon as she perceived herself within the hedge, flew away. “A vengeance on her!” said they. “We did not make our hedge high enough.”

OF SENDING CHEESES

There was a man of Gotham who went to the market at Nottingham to sell cheese, and as he was going down the hill to Nottingham bridge, one of his cheeses fell out of his wallet and rolled down the hill. “Ah, gaffer,” said the fellow, “can you run to market alone? I will send one after another after you.” Then he laid down his wallet and took out the cheeses, and rolled them down the hill. Some went into one bush, and some went into another.

“I charge you all to meet me near the marketplace”; and when the fellow came to the market to meet his cheeses, he stayed there till the market was nearly done. Then he went about to inquire of his friends and neighbors, and other men, if they did see his cheeses come to the market.

“Who should bring them?” said one of the market-men.

“Marry, themselves,” said the fellow; “they know the way well enough.”

And then he said: “A vengeance on them all. I did fear to see them run so fast that they would run beyond the market. I am now fully persuaded that they must be now almost at York.” Thereupon he forthwith hired a horse to ride to York, to seek his cheeses where they were not, but to this day no man can tell him of his cheeses.

OF DROWNING EELS

When Good Friday came, the men of Gotham cast their heads together what to do with their white herrings, their red herrings, their sprats, and other salt fish. One consulted with the other, and agreed that such fish should be cast into their pond (which was in the middle of the town), that they might breed against the next year, and every man that had salt fish left, cast them into the pool.

“I have many white herrings,” said one.

“I have many sprats,” said another.

“I have many red herrings,” said the other.

“I have much salt fish. Let all go into the pond or pool, and we shall fare like lords next year.”

At the beginning of next year following, the men drew near the pond to have their fish, and there was nothing but a great eel. “Ah,” said they all, “a mischief on this eel, for he has eaten up all our fish.”

“What shall we do to him?” said one to the others.

“Kill him,” said one.

“Chop him into pieces,” said another. “Not so,” said another; “let us drown him.”

“Be it so,” said all. And they went to another pond, and cast the eel into the pond. “Lie there and shift for yourself, for no help thou shalt have from us”; and they left the eel to drown.

OF SENDING RENT

Once on a time the men of Gotham had forgotten to pay their landlord. One said to the other: “To-morrow is our pay-day, and whom shall we find to send our money to our landlord?”

The one said: “This day I have caught a hare, and he shall carry it, for he is light of foot.”

“Be it so,” said all; “he shall have a letter and a purse to put our money in, and we shall direct him the right way.” So when the letters were written and the money put in a purse, they tied it round the hare’s neck, saying: “First you go to Lancaster, then you must go to Loughborough, and Newarke is our landlord, and commend us to him, and there are his dues.”

The hare, as soon as he was out of their hands, ran on along the country way. Some cried: “You must go to Lancaster first.”

“Let the hare alone,” said another; “he can tell a nearer way than the best of us all. Let him go.”

Another said: “It is a subtle hare, let him alone; he will not keep the highway for fear of dogs.”

OF COUNTING

On a certain time there were twelve men of Gotham who went fishing, and some went into the water and some on dry ground; and, as they were coming back, one of them said: “We have ventured much this day wading; I pray God that none of us that did come from home be drowned.”

“Marry,” said one, “let us see about that. Twelve of us came out,” and every man did count eleven, and the twelfth man did never count himself.