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There is a green hill above Kintraw, known as the Fairies' Hill, of which the following story is told.
Many years ago, the wife of the farmer at Kintraw fell ill and died, leaving two or three young children. The Sunday after the funeral the farmer and his servants went to church, leaving the children at home in charge of the eldest, a girl of about ten years of age. On the farmer's return the children told him their mother had been to see them, and had combed their hair and dressed them. As they still persisted in their statement after being remonstrated with, they were punished for telling what was not true.
The following Sunday the same thing occurred again. The father now told the children, if their mother came again, they were in inquire of her why she came. Next Sunday, when she reappeared, the eldest child put her father's question to her, when the mother told them she had been carried off by the "Good People" (Daione Sìth), and could only get away for an hour or two on Sundays, and should her coffin be opened it would be found to contain only a withered leaf.
The farmer, much perplexed, went to the minister for advice, who scoffed at the idea of any supernatural connection with the children's story, ridiculed the existence of "Good People," and would not allow the coffin to be opened. The matter was therefore allowed to rest. But, some little time after, the minister, who had gone to Lochgilphead for the day, was found lying dead near the Fairies' Hill, a victim, many people thought, to the indignation of the Fairy world he had laughed at.
Showing posts with label Scotland. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Scotland. Show all posts
Wednesday, April 22, 2009
Thursday, June 12, 2008
The Well of the World's End
Once upon a time, and a very good time it was, though it wasn't in my time, nor in your time, nor anyone else's time, there was a girl whose mother had died, and her father had married again. And her stepmother hated her because she was more beautiful than herself, and she was very cruel to her. She used to make her do all the servant's work, and never let her have any peace.
At last, one day, the stepmother thought to get rid of her altogether; so she handed her a sieve and said to her, "Go, fill it at the Well of the World's End and bring it home to me full, or woe betide you" For she thought she would never be able to find the Well of the World's End, and, if she did, how could she bring home a sieve full of water?
Well, the girl started off, and asked everyone she met to tell her where was the Well of the World's End. But nobody knew, and she didn't know what to do, when a queer little old woman, all bent double, told her where it was, and how she could get to it. So she did what the old woman told her, and at last arrived at the Well of the World's End.
But when she dipped the sieve in the cold, cold water, it all ran out again. She tried and she tried again, but every time it was the same; and at last she sate down and cried as if her heart would break. Suddenly she heard a croaking voice, and she looked up and saw a great frog with goggle eyes looking at her and speaking to her.
"What's the matter, dearie?" it said.
"Oh, dear, oh dear," she said, "my stepmother has sent me all this long way to fill this sieve with water from the Well of the World's End, and I can't fill it no how at all."
"Well," said the frog, " if you promise me to do whatever I bid you for a whole night long, I'll tell you how to fill it."
So the girl agreed, and then the frog said:
Stop it with moss and daub it with clay,
And then it will carry the water away;
and then it gave a hop, skip and jump, and went flop into the Well of the World's End.
So the girl looked about for some moss, and lined the bottom of the sieve with it, and over that she put some clay, and then she dipped it once again into the Well of the World's End; and this time, the water didn't run out, and she turned to go away.
Just then the frog popped up its head out of the Well of the World's End, and said, "Remember your promise."
"All right," said the girl; for thought she, "What harm can a frog do me?"
So she went back to her stepmother, and brought the sieve full of water from the Well of the World's End. The stepmother was fine and angry, but she said nothing at all.
That very evening they heard something tap tapping at the door low down, and a voice cried out:
Open the door, my hinny, my heart,
Open the door, my own darling;
Mind you the words that you and I spoke,
Down in the meadow, at the World's End Well.
"Whatever can that be?" cried out the stepmother, and the girl had to tell her all about it, and what she had promised the frog.
"Girls must keep their promises," said the stepmother. "Go and open the door this instant." For she was glad the girl would have to obey a nasty frog.
So the girl went and opened the door, and there was the frog from the Well of the World's End. And it hopped, and it skipped, and it jumped, till it reached the girl, and then it said:
Lift me to your knee, my hinny, my heart;
Lift me to your knee, my own darling;
Remember the words you and I spoke,
Down in the meadow by the World's End Well.
But the girl didn't like to, till her stepmother said, "Lift it up this instant, you hussy! Girls must keep their promises!"
So at last she lifted the frog up on to her lap, and it lay there for a time, till at last it said:
Give me some supper, my hinny, my heart,
Give me some supper, my darling;
Remember the words you and I spake,
In the meadow, by the Well of the World's End.
Well, she didn't mind doing that, so she got it a bowl of milk and bread, and fed it well. And when the frog had finished, it said:
Go with me to bed, my hinny, my heart,
Go with me to bed, my own darling;
Mind you the words you spake to me,
Down by the cold well, so weary.
But that the girl wouldn't do, till her stepmother said, "Do what you promised, girl; girls must keep their promises. Do what you're bid, or out you go, you and your froggie."
So the girl took the frog with her to bed, and kept it as far away from her as she could. Well, just as the day was beginning to break what should the frog say but:
Chop off my head, my hinny, my heart,
Chop off my head, my own darling;
Remember the promise you made to me,
Down by the cold well so weary.
At first the girl wouldn't, for she thought of what the frog had done for her at the Well of the World's End. But when the frog said the words over again, she went and took an axe and chopped off its head, and lo! and behold, there stood before her a handsome young prince, who told her that he had been enchanted by a wicked magician, and he could never be unspelled till some girl would do his bidding for a whole night, and chop off his head at the end of it.
The stepmother was that surprised when she found the young prince instead of the nasty frog, and she wasn't best pleased, you may be sure, when the prince told her that he was going to marry her stepdaughter because she had unspelled him. So they were married and went away to live in the castle of the king, his father, and all the stepmother had to console her was, that it was all through her that her stepdaughter was married to a prince.
At last, one day, the stepmother thought to get rid of her altogether; so she handed her a sieve and said to her, "Go, fill it at the Well of the World's End and bring it home to me full, or woe betide you" For she thought she would never be able to find the Well of the World's End, and, if she did, how could she bring home a sieve full of water?
Well, the girl started off, and asked everyone she met to tell her where was the Well of the World's End. But nobody knew, and she didn't know what to do, when a queer little old woman, all bent double, told her where it was, and how she could get to it. So she did what the old woman told her, and at last arrived at the Well of the World's End.
But when she dipped the sieve in the cold, cold water, it all ran out again. She tried and she tried again, but every time it was the same; and at last she sate down and cried as if her heart would break. Suddenly she heard a croaking voice, and she looked up and saw a great frog with goggle eyes looking at her and speaking to her.
"What's the matter, dearie?" it said.
"Oh, dear, oh dear," she said, "my stepmother has sent me all this long way to fill this sieve with water from the Well of the World's End, and I can't fill it no how at all."
"Well," said the frog, " if you promise me to do whatever I bid you for a whole night long, I'll tell you how to fill it."
So the girl agreed, and then the frog said:
Stop it with moss and daub it with clay,
And then it will carry the water away;
and then it gave a hop, skip and jump, and went flop into the Well of the World's End.
So the girl looked about for some moss, and lined the bottom of the sieve with it, and over that she put some clay, and then she dipped it once again into the Well of the World's End; and this time, the water didn't run out, and she turned to go away.
Just then the frog popped up its head out of the Well of the World's End, and said, "Remember your promise."
"All right," said the girl; for thought she, "What harm can a frog do me?"
So she went back to her stepmother, and brought the sieve full of water from the Well of the World's End. The stepmother was fine and angry, but she said nothing at all.
That very evening they heard something tap tapping at the door low down, and a voice cried out:
Open the door, my hinny, my heart,
Open the door, my own darling;
Mind you the words that you and I spoke,
Down in the meadow, at the World's End Well.
"Whatever can that be?" cried out the stepmother, and the girl had to tell her all about it, and what she had promised the frog.
"Girls must keep their promises," said the stepmother. "Go and open the door this instant." For she was glad the girl would have to obey a nasty frog.
So the girl went and opened the door, and there was the frog from the Well of the World's End. And it hopped, and it skipped, and it jumped, till it reached the girl, and then it said:
Lift me to your knee, my hinny, my heart;
Lift me to your knee, my own darling;
Remember the words you and I spoke,
Down in the meadow by the World's End Well.
But the girl didn't like to, till her stepmother said, "Lift it up this instant, you hussy! Girls must keep their promises!"
So at last she lifted the frog up on to her lap, and it lay there for a time, till at last it said:
Give me some supper, my hinny, my heart,
Give me some supper, my darling;
Remember the words you and I spake,
In the meadow, by the Well of the World's End.
Well, she didn't mind doing that, so she got it a bowl of milk and bread, and fed it well. And when the frog had finished, it said:
Go with me to bed, my hinny, my heart,
Go with me to bed, my own darling;
Mind you the words you spake to me,
Down by the cold well, so weary.
But that the girl wouldn't do, till her stepmother said, "Do what you promised, girl; girls must keep their promises. Do what you're bid, or out you go, you and your froggie."
So the girl took the frog with her to bed, and kept it as far away from her as she could. Well, just as the day was beginning to break what should the frog say but:
Chop off my head, my hinny, my heart,
Chop off my head, my own darling;
Remember the promise you made to me,
Down by the cold well so weary.
At first the girl wouldn't, for she thought of what the frog had done for her at the Well of the World's End. But when the frog said the words over again, she went and took an axe and chopped off its head, and lo! and behold, there stood before her a handsome young prince, who told her that he had been enchanted by a wicked magician, and he could never be unspelled till some girl would do his bidding for a whole night, and chop off his head at the end of it.
The stepmother was that surprised when she found the young prince instead of the nasty frog, and she wasn't best pleased, you may be sure, when the prince told her that he was going to marry her stepdaughter because she had unspelled him. So they were married and went away to live in the castle of the king, his father, and all the stepmother had to console her was, that it was all through her that her stepdaughter was married to a prince.
Tuesday, May 6, 2008
The Paddo
A poor widow was one day baking bannocks, and sent her dochter wi' a dish to the well to bring water. The dochter gaed, and better gaed, till she came to the well, but it was dry. Now, what to do she didna ken, for she couldna gang back to her mother without water; sae she sat down by the side o' the well, and fell a-greeting. A paddo [frog] then came loup-loup-louping out o' the well, and asked the lassie what she was greeting for; and she said she was greeting because there was nae water in the well.
"But," says the paddo, "an ye'll be my wife, I'll gie ye plenty o' water."
And the lassie, no thinking that the poor beast could mean anything serious, said she wad be his wife, for the sake o' getting the water. So she got the water into her dish, and gaed away hame to her mother, and thought nae mair about the paddo, till that night, when, just as she and her mother were about to go their beds, something came to the door, and when they listened, they heard this sang:
O open the door, my hinnie, my heart,
O open the door, my ain true love;
Remember the promise that you and I made,
down i' the meadow, where we twa met.
Says the mother to the dochter, "What noise is that at the door?"
"Hout," says the dochter, "it's naething but a filthy paddo."
"Open the door," says the mother, "to the poor paddo." So the lassie opened the door, and the paddo came loup-loup-louping in, and sat down by the ingle-side. Then he sings:
O gie me my supper, my hinnie, my heart,
O gie me my supper, my ain true love;
Remember the promise that you and I made,
Down i' the meadow, where we twa met.
"Hout," quo' the dochter, 'wad I gie a filthy paddo his supper?"
"O ay," said the mother, "e'n gie the poor paddo his supper." So the paddo got his supper; and after that he sings again:
O put me to bed, my hinnie, my heart,
O put me to bed, my ain true love;
Remember the promise that you and I made,
Down i' the meadow, where we twa met.
"Hout," quo' the dochter, "wad I put a filthy paddo to bed?"
"O ay," says the mother, "put the poor paddo to bed." And so she put the paddo to his bed. (Here let us abridge a little.) Then the paddo sang again:
Now fetch me an axe, my hinnie, my heart,
Now fetch me an axe, my ain true love;
Remember the promise that you and I made,
Down i' the meadow, where we twa met.
Well, the lassie chappit aff his head; and no sooner was that done, than he started up the bonniest young prince that ever was seen. And the twa lived happy a' the rest o' their days.
"But," says the paddo, "an ye'll be my wife, I'll gie ye plenty o' water."
And the lassie, no thinking that the poor beast could mean anything serious, said she wad be his wife, for the sake o' getting the water. So she got the water into her dish, and gaed away hame to her mother, and thought nae mair about the paddo, till that night, when, just as she and her mother were about to go their beds, something came to the door, and when they listened, they heard this sang:
O open the door, my hinnie, my heart,
O open the door, my ain true love;
Remember the promise that you and I made,
down i' the meadow, where we twa met.
Says the mother to the dochter, "What noise is that at the door?"
"Hout," says the dochter, "it's naething but a filthy paddo."
"Open the door," says the mother, "to the poor paddo." So the lassie opened the door, and the paddo came loup-loup-louping in, and sat down by the ingle-side. Then he sings:
O gie me my supper, my hinnie, my heart,
O gie me my supper, my ain true love;
Remember the promise that you and I made,
Down i' the meadow, where we twa met.
"Hout," quo' the dochter, 'wad I gie a filthy paddo his supper?"
"O ay," said the mother, "e'n gie the poor paddo his supper." So the paddo got his supper; and after that he sings again:
O put me to bed, my hinnie, my heart,
O put me to bed, my ain true love;
Remember the promise that you and I made,
Down i' the meadow, where we twa met.
"Hout," quo' the dochter, "wad I put a filthy paddo to bed?"
"O ay," says the mother, "put the poor paddo to bed." And so she put the paddo to his bed. (Here let us abridge a little.) Then the paddo sang again:
Now fetch me an axe, my hinnie, my heart,
Now fetch me an axe, my ain true love;
Remember the promise that you and I made,
Down i' the meadow, where we twa met.
Well, the lassie chappit aff his head; and no sooner was that done, than he started up the bonniest young prince that ever was seen. And the twa lived happy a' the rest o' their days.
Sunday, May 4, 2008
The Stolen Lady
John Roy, who lived in Glenbroun, in the parish of Abernethy, being out one night on the hills in search of his cattle, met a troop of fairies, who seemed to have got a prize of some sort or other. Recollecting that the fairies are obliged to exchange whatever they may have with any one who offers them anything, however low in value, for it, he flung his bonnet to them, crying Shuis slo slumus sheen (i.e., mine is yours and yours is mine). The fairies dropped their booty, which proved to be a Sassenach (English) lady whom the dwellers of Shian of Coir-laggac had carried away from her own country, leaving a stock in her place which, of course, died and was buried.
John brought her home, and she lived for many years in his house.
"It happened, however, in the course of time," said the Gaelic narrator, "that the new king found it necessary to make the great roads through these countries by means of soldiers, for the purpose of letting coaches and carriages pass to the northern cities; and those soldiers had officers and commanders in the same way as our fighting army have now. Those soldiers were never great favorites in these countries, particularly during the time that our kings were alive; and consequently it was no easy matter for them, either officers or men, to procure for themselves comfortable quarters."
But John Roy would not keep up the national animosity to the cottan dearg (red-coats), and he offered a residence in his house to a Saxon captain and his son. When there they could not take their eyes off the English lady, and the son remarked to his father what a strong likeness she bore to his deceased mother.
The father replied that he too had been struck with the resemblance, and said he could almost fancy she was his wife. He then mentioned her name and those of some persons connected with them. The lady by these words at once recognized her husband and son, and honest John Roy had the satisfaction of reuniting the long-separated husband and wife, and receiving their most grateful acknowledgments.
John brought her home, and she lived for many years in his house.
"It happened, however, in the course of time," said the Gaelic narrator, "that the new king found it necessary to make the great roads through these countries by means of soldiers, for the purpose of letting coaches and carriages pass to the northern cities; and those soldiers had officers and commanders in the same way as our fighting army have now. Those soldiers were never great favorites in these countries, particularly during the time that our kings were alive; and consequently it was no easy matter for them, either officers or men, to procure for themselves comfortable quarters."
But John Roy would not keep up the national animosity to the cottan dearg (red-coats), and he offered a residence in his house to a Saxon captain and his son. When there they could not take their eyes off the English lady, and the son remarked to his father what a strong likeness she bore to his deceased mother.
The father replied that he too had been struck with the resemblance, and said he could almost fancy she was his wife. He then mentioned her name and those of some persons connected with them. The lady by these words at once recognized her husband and son, and honest John Roy had the satisfaction of reuniting the long-separated husband and wife, and receiving their most grateful acknowledgments.
Monday, February 18, 2008
The Queen Who Sought a Drink from a Certain Well
There was before now, a queen who was sick, and she had three daughters. Said she to the one who was eldest, "Go to the well of true water, and bring to me a drink to heal me."
The daughter went, and she reached the well. A losgann (frog or toad) came up to ask her if she would wed him, if she should get a drink for her mother.
"I will not wed thee, hideous creature! on any account," said she.
"Well then," said he, "thou shalt not get the water."
She went away home, and her mother sent away her sister that was nearest to her, to seek a drink of the water. She reached the well, and the toad came up and asked her if she would marry him if she should get the water.
"I won't marry thee, hideous creature!" said she.
"Thou shalt not get the water then," said he.
She went home, and her sister that was youngest went to seek the water. When she reached the well the toad came up as he used, and asked her if she would marry him if she should get the water.
"If I have no other way to get healing for my mother, I will marry thee," said she; and she got the water, and she healed her mother.
They had betaken themselves to rest in the night when the toad came to the door saying:
A chaomhag, a chaomhag,
An cuimhneach leat
An gealladh beag
A thug thu aig
An tobar dhomh?
A ghaoil, a ghaoil! Gentle one, gentle one,
Rememberest thou
The little pledge
Thou gavest me
Beside the well?
My love, my love!
When he was ceaselessly saying this, the girl rose and took him in, and put him behind the door, and she went to bed; but she was not long laid down, when he began again saying, everlastingly:
A hàovaig, a hàovaig,
An cuineach leat
An geallug beag
A hoog oo aig
An tobar gaw,
A géule, a géule.
Then she got up and she put him under a noggin [small wooden pail]. That kept him quiet a while. But she was not long laid down when he began again, saying:
A hàovaig, a hàovaig,
An cuineach leat
An geallug beag
A hoog oo aig
An tobar gaw,
A géule, a géule.
She rose again, and she made him a little bed at the fireside.
But he was not pleased, and he began saying, "A chaoimheag, a chaoimheag, an cuimhneach leat an gealladh beag a thug thu aig an tobar dhomh, a ghaoil, a ghaoil."
Then she got up and made him a bed beside her own bed.
But he was without ceasing, saying, "A chaoimheag, a chaoimheag, an cuimhneach leat an gealladh beag a thug thu aig an tobar dhomh, a ghaoil, a ghaoil."
But she took no notice of his complaining, till he said to her, "There is an old rusted glave [sword] behind thy bed, with which thou hadst better take off my head than be holding me longer in torture."
She took the glave and cut the head off him. When the steel touched him, he grew a handsome youth; and he gave many thanks to the young wife, who had been the means of putting off him the spells under which he had endured for a long time.
Then he got his kingdom, for he was a king; and he married the princess, and they were long alive and merry together.
The daughter went, and she reached the well. A losgann (frog or toad) came up to ask her if she would wed him, if she should get a drink for her mother.
"I will not wed thee, hideous creature! on any account," said she.
"Well then," said he, "thou shalt not get the water."
She went away home, and her mother sent away her sister that was nearest to her, to seek a drink of the water. She reached the well, and the toad came up and asked her if she would marry him if she should get the water.
"I won't marry thee, hideous creature!" said she.
"Thou shalt not get the water then," said he.
She went home, and her sister that was youngest went to seek the water. When she reached the well the toad came up as he used, and asked her if she would marry him if she should get the water.
"If I have no other way to get healing for my mother, I will marry thee," said she; and she got the water, and she healed her mother.
They had betaken themselves to rest in the night when the toad came to the door saying:
A chaomhag, a chaomhag,
An cuimhneach leat
An gealladh beag
A thug thu aig
An tobar dhomh?
A ghaoil, a ghaoil! Gentle one, gentle one,
Rememberest thou
The little pledge
Thou gavest me
Beside the well?
My love, my love!
When he was ceaselessly saying this, the girl rose and took him in, and put him behind the door, and she went to bed; but she was not long laid down, when he began again saying, everlastingly:
A hàovaig, a hàovaig,
An cuineach leat
An geallug beag
A hoog oo aig
An tobar gaw,
A géule, a géule.
Then she got up and she put him under a noggin [small wooden pail]. That kept him quiet a while. But she was not long laid down when he began again, saying:
A hàovaig, a hàovaig,
An cuineach leat
An geallug beag
A hoog oo aig
An tobar gaw,
A géule, a géule.
She rose again, and she made him a little bed at the fireside.
But he was not pleased, and he began saying, "A chaoimheag, a chaoimheag, an cuimhneach leat an gealladh beag a thug thu aig an tobar dhomh, a ghaoil, a ghaoil."
Then she got up and made him a bed beside her own bed.
But he was without ceasing, saying, "A chaoimheag, a chaoimheag, an cuimhneach leat an gealladh beag a thug thu aig an tobar dhomh, a ghaoil, a ghaoil."
But she took no notice of his complaining, till he said to her, "There is an old rusted glave [sword] behind thy bed, with which thou hadst better take off my head than be holding me longer in torture."
She took the glave and cut the head off him. When the steel touched him, he grew a handsome youth; and he gave many thanks to the young wife, who had been the means of putting off him the spells under which he had endured for a long time.
Then he got his kingdom, for he was a king; and he married the princess, and they were long alive and merry together.
Saturday, January 12, 2008
The Story of the White Pet
There was a farmer before now who had a White Pet (sheep), and when Christmas was drawing near, he thought that he would kill the White Pet. The White Pet heard that, and he thought he would run away; and that is what he did.
He had not gone far when a bull met him. Said the bull to him, "All hail! White Pet, where are you going?"
"I," said the White Pet, "am going to seek my fortune; they were going to kill me for Christmas, and I thought I had better run away."
"It is better for me," said the bull, "to go with you, for they were going to do the very same with me."
"I am willing," said the White Pet; "the larger the party the better the fun."
They went forward until they fell in with a dog. "All hail! White Pet," said the dog.
"All hail! dog."
"Where are you going?" said the dog.
"I am running away, for I heard that they were threatening to kill me for Christmas."
"They were going to do the very same to me," said the dog, "and I will go with you."
"Come, then," said the White Pet.
They went then, until a cat joined them. "All hail! White Pet," said the cat.
"All hail! oh cat."
"Where are you going?" said the cat.
"I am going to seek my fortune," said the White Pet, " because they were going to kill me at Christmas."
"They were talking about killing me too," said the cat," and I had better go with you."
"Come on then," said the White Pet.
Then they went forward until a cock met them. "All hail! White Pet," said the cock.
"All hail to yourself! oh cock," said the White Pet.
"Where," said the cock," are you going?"
"I," said the White Pet, "am going away, for they were threatening my death at Christmas."
"They were going to kill me at the very same time," said the cock, " and I will go with you."
"Come, then," said the White Pet.
They went forward until they fell in with a goose. "All hail! White Pet," said the goose. "All hail to yourself! oh goose," said the White Pet.
"Where are you going?" said the goose.
"I," said the White Pet, "am running away, because they were going to kill me at Christmas."
"They were going to do that to me too," said the goose, "and I will go with you."
The party went forward until the night was drawing on them, and they saw a little light far away; and though far off, they were not long getting there. When they reached the house they said to each other that they would look in at the window to see who was in the house, and they saw thieves counting money; and the White Pet said, "Let every one of us call his own call. I will call my own call; and let the bull call his own call; let the dog call his own call; and the cat her own call; and the cock his own call; and the goose his own call." With that they gave out one shout -- Gaire!
When the thieves heard the shouting outside, they thought the mischief was there; and they fled out, and they went to a wood that was near them. When the White Pet and his company saw that the house was empty, they went in and they got the money that the thieves had been counting, and they divided it among themselves; and then they thought that they would settle to rest. Said the White Pet, "Where will you sleep tonight, oh bull?"
"I will sleep," said the bull, "behind the door where I used to be."
"Where will you sleep, White Pet?"
"I will sleep," said the White Pet, "in the middle of the floor where I used to be."
"Where will you sleep, oh dog?" said the White Pet.
"I will sleep beside the fire where I used to be," said the dog.
"Where will you sleep, oh cat?"
"I will sleep," said the cat, "in the candle press, where I like to be."
"Where will you sleep, oh cock?" said the White Pet.
"I," said the cock, " will sleep on the rafters where I used to be."
"Where will you sleep, oh goose?"
"I will sleep," said the goose, "on the manure pile, where I was accustomed to be."
They were not long settled to rest, when one of the thieves returned to look in to see if he could perceive if any one at all was in the house. All things were still, and he went on forward to the candle press for a candle, that he might kindle to make him a light; but when he put his hand in the box the cat thrust her claws into his hand, but he took a candle with him, and he tried to light it. Then the dog got up, and he stuck his tail into a pot of water that was beside the fire; he shook his tail and put out the candle. Then the thief thought that the mischief was in the house, and he fled; but when he was passing the White Pet, he gave him a blow; before he got past the bull, he gave him a kick; and the cock began to crow; and when he went out, the goose began to belabor him with his wings about the shanks.
He went to the wood where his comrades were, as fast as was in his legs. They asked him how it had gone with him. "It went," said he, "but middling; when I went to the candle press, there was a man in it who thrust ten knives into my hand; and when I went to the fireside to light the candle, there was a big black man lying there, who was sprinkling water on it to put it out; and when I tried to go out, there was a big man in the middle of the floor, who gave me a shove; and another man behind the door who pushed me out; and there was a little brat on the loft calling out Cuir-anees-an-shaw-ay-s-foni-mi-hayn-da -- Send him up here and I'll do for him; and there was a shoemaker, out on the manure pile, belaboring me about the shanks with his apron."
When the thieves heard that, they did not return to seek their lot of money; and the White Pet and his comrades got it to themselves; and it kept them peaceably as long as they lived.
He had not gone far when a bull met him. Said the bull to him, "All hail! White Pet, where are you going?"
"I," said the White Pet, "am going to seek my fortune; they were going to kill me for Christmas, and I thought I had better run away."
"It is better for me," said the bull, "to go with you, for they were going to do the very same with me."
"I am willing," said the White Pet; "the larger the party the better the fun."
They went forward until they fell in with a dog. "All hail! White Pet," said the dog.
"All hail! dog."
"Where are you going?" said the dog.
"I am running away, for I heard that they were threatening to kill me for Christmas."
"They were going to do the very same to me," said the dog, "and I will go with you."
"Come, then," said the White Pet.
They went then, until a cat joined them. "All hail! White Pet," said the cat.
"All hail! oh cat."
"Where are you going?" said the cat.
"I am going to seek my fortune," said the White Pet, " because they were going to kill me at Christmas."
"They were talking about killing me too," said the cat," and I had better go with you."
"Come on then," said the White Pet.
Then they went forward until a cock met them. "All hail! White Pet," said the cock.
"All hail to yourself! oh cock," said the White Pet.
"Where," said the cock," are you going?"
"I," said the White Pet, "am going away, for they were threatening my death at Christmas."
"They were going to kill me at the very same time," said the cock, " and I will go with you."
"Come, then," said the White Pet.
They went forward until they fell in with a goose. "All hail! White Pet," said the goose. "All hail to yourself! oh goose," said the White Pet.
"Where are you going?" said the goose.
"I," said the White Pet, "am running away, because they were going to kill me at Christmas."
"They were going to do that to me too," said the goose, "and I will go with you."
The party went forward until the night was drawing on them, and they saw a little light far away; and though far off, they were not long getting there. When they reached the house they said to each other that they would look in at the window to see who was in the house, and they saw thieves counting money; and the White Pet said, "Let every one of us call his own call. I will call my own call; and let the bull call his own call; let the dog call his own call; and the cat her own call; and the cock his own call; and the goose his own call." With that they gave out one shout -- Gaire!
When the thieves heard the shouting outside, they thought the mischief was there; and they fled out, and they went to a wood that was near them. When the White Pet and his company saw that the house was empty, they went in and they got the money that the thieves had been counting, and they divided it among themselves; and then they thought that they would settle to rest. Said the White Pet, "Where will you sleep tonight, oh bull?"
"I will sleep," said the bull, "behind the door where I used to be."
"Where will you sleep, White Pet?"
"I will sleep," said the White Pet, "in the middle of the floor where I used to be."
"Where will you sleep, oh dog?" said the White Pet.
"I will sleep beside the fire where I used to be," said the dog.
"Where will you sleep, oh cat?"
"I will sleep," said the cat, "in the candle press, where I like to be."
"Where will you sleep, oh cock?" said the White Pet.
"I," said the cock, " will sleep on the rafters where I used to be."
"Where will you sleep, oh goose?"
"I will sleep," said the goose, "on the manure pile, where I was accustomed to be."
They were not long settled to rest, when one of the thieves returned to look in to see if he could perceive if any one at all was in the house. All things were still, and he went on forward to the candle press for a candle, that he might kindle to make him a light; but when he put his hand in the box the cat thrust her claws into his hand, but he took a candle with him, and he tried to light it. Then the dog got up, and he stuck his tail into a pot of water that was beside the fire; he shook his tail and put out the candle. Then the thief thought that the mischief was in the house, and he fled; but when he was passing the White Pet, he gave him a blow; before he got past the bull, he gave him a kick; and the cock began to crow; and when he went out, the goose began to belabor him with his wings about the shanks.
He went to the wood where his comrades were, as fast as was in his legs. They asked him how it had gone with him. "It went," said he, "but middling; when I went to the candle press, there was a man in it who thrust ten knives into my hand; and when I went to the fireside to light the candle, there was a big black man lying there, who was sprinkling water on it to put it out; and when I tried to go out, there was a big man in the middle of the floor, who gave me a shove; and another man behind the door who pushed me out; and there was a little brat on the loft calling out Cuir-anees-an-shaw-ay-s-foni-mi-hayn-da -- Send him up here and I'll do for him; and there was a shoemaker, out on the manure pile, belaboring me about the shanks with his apron."
When the thieves heard that, they did not return to seek their lot of money; and the White Pet and his comrades got it to themselves; and it kept them peaceably as long as they lived.
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