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Authors: William Montgomerie

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BOOK: Folk Tales of Scotland
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‘What’s going on? What’s that they’re saying? Let me out of here, and I’ll not be long in scattering them!’

‘Hush, hush,’ said John to the Mischief.

‘Who’s that speaking to you?’ said the Colonel.

‘Oh, it’s only a white mouse,’ said John.

‘Black or white,’ said the Colonel, ‘don’t let it out of the haversack, and you shall have your discharge from the army. And let us see no more of you!’

John was glad to go and off he went. At dusk he went into a barn where twelve men were threshing.

‘Here’s my old haversack for you, lads. Thresh it for a while. It’s so hard, it’s taking the skin off my back.’

For two hours they threshed the haversack with twelve flails. At last every blow they gave it made it jump to the roof of the barn. Now and then it would throw a thresher on his back, so they
told John to be out of that, he and his haversack. They said the Mischief was in it.

So John went on his way till he came to a smiddy, where twelve blacksmiths were using their big hammers.

‘Here’s an old haversack for you, lads. I’ll give you half a crown to hammer it for a while with your twelve big hammers. It’s so hard, it’s taking the skin off my
back.’

The soldier’s haversack seemed good sport for the blacksmiths, but every blow it got, it jumped to the roof of the smiddy.

‘Get out of here, yourself and your haversack,’ they said to John. ‘You’ve got the Mischief in it!’

So John went on, and the Mischief on his back, till he reached a great furnace.

‘What are you going to do now, John?’ said the Mischief.

‘A little patience, and you’ll see,’ said John.

‘Let me out,’ said the Mischief, ‘and I’ll never trouble you again in this world.’

‘Nor in the next?’ said John.

‘I agree,’ said the Mischief.

John threw the haversack and the Mischief into the furnace, and the Mischief and the furnace went up in a green flame to the sky.

T
HE
F
ECKLESS
O
NES

HERE
was once a young farmer who married his neighbour’s only daughter.

One day he and his young wife, her father and her mother, all went to the peat-hag to cut peat for the winter. When they were hungry, the young wife went to fetch the dinner.

When she got home, she saw the speckled filly’s pack-saddle hanging above her head. She looked at the filly, then she sat on the ground and wept.

‘If the pack-saddle should fall on to
my
head, whatever would I do?’ she wailed. ‘It might kill me!’ And she sat there, rocking to and fro, weeping bitterly.

The family at the peat-hag wondered why the young wife was so long fetching the dinner.

‘I’ll go and see what’s happened,’ said her mother.

She found the young wife sitting on the ground, rocking to and fro, weeping bitterly.

‘Oh, if it happened to me!’ she cried.

‘What has happened?’ asked her mother.

‘Well, when I came in, I saw the speckled filly’s pack-saddle overhead,’ she wailed. ‘What should I do if it had fallen and killed me?’

‘Good gracious me!’ cried her mother, ‘if that should happen, what should I do without you, my only child, to help me?’ And she too sat on the ground and wept.

‘Whatever can be keeping those women,’ said the father. ‘I’d better go and see what has happened to our dinner.’

He found his wife and his daughter sitting on the ground at home, rocking to and fro, and crying their hearts out.

‘What’s come over you both?’ he cried.

‘When our daughter came home,’ sobbed his wife, ‘she saw the pack-saddle over her head. Whatever would I do if it fell and killed her, and I’d have no one to help
me?’

‘If that should happen we’d all be in a bad way,’ said the old man, and he too sat down and wept.

The young farmer grew tired of waiting for his dinner. He went to see what had happened to his wife and her parents.

‘What’s wrong with you all?’ he said, when he saw them, sitting on the ground, crying their eyes out.

‘Our daughter came home, saw the speckled filly’s pack-saddle above her head and thought she’d be killed if it fell on her,’ said the old man. ‘If that should
happen what would become of us? She’s our only child!’

‘But the pack-saddle
didn’t
fall,’ said the young man.

His young wife, her mother and her father didn’t reply, they just cried louder than before. So the young man sat at the table, helped himself to the dinner and ate it. He took no notice of
them and they took no notice of him. Then he went to bed.

Next morning, the three were still weeping, so he pulled on his boots, shouldered his gun and left.

‘I’ll not stop,’ said he as he left, ‘till I see three others as silly as you!’

On and on he went till he came to a house where three women were spinning.

‘Are there any silly folk in these parts?’ said he.

‘There are,’ said the women. ‘The men here are so stupid, they’ll believe anything we tell them.’

‘Is that so?’ said the young man. ‘Well, I’ll give a gold coin to the woman whose husband believes her absolutely.’

When the first man came home, his wife said to him: ‘You are sick.’ ‘Am I?’ said he.

‘Indeed you are. Take off your clothes and go to bed.’ So he did as he was told and, as soon as he was under the bed-clothes, his wife said:

‘Good gracious me, you’re dead!’

‘Am I?’ said he.

‘Indeed you are. Now close your eyes and don’t move.’

So her husband closed his eyes and died.

Now, when the second man came home, his wife looked at him, and said: ‘You’re not
you
!’

‘Am I not?’ said he. ‘Then this can’t be my home.’ And he went away out of the house.

The third man came home, and his wife welcomed him. She gave him supper and they went to bed. But next morning, when he had to go to his neighbour’s funeral, he couldn’t find his
clothes.

‘What are you looking for?’ said his wife.

‘My clothes.’

‘You’ve got them on, and you’d better hurry or you’ll miss the funeral. They’ve just passed, carrying the coffin. You’ll have to run if you want to catch them
up!’

So the goodman ran out of his house and after the funeral party, stark naked. When they saw him, the mourners left the coffin on the ground, and fled. The naked man stood at the foot of the
coffin and was wondering what to do, when along came the second husband.

‘You look lost, Thomas,’ said the naked one.

‘I’m
not
Thomas,’ said he, ‘if I was, my wife would know me, and she said I was not me. Why are you going about naked?’

‘I’m not, my wife told me I had my clothes on!’

‘My wife told me I am dead,’ said the corpse in the coffin.

When the other two heard the dead man speak, they ran off as fast as their legs could take them, and were not seen again.

‘Which of us has the silliest husband?’ the three wives asked the young farmer. ‘Which of us has won the gold coin?’

The young man decided that the wife of the dead man deserved the gold coin, for her husband was certainly the silliest he had ever heard of. Along with the two other husbands, all three were
even sillier than his wife, her father and her mother.

So he went back home and told them the story. Whether this cured their stupidity, we’ll never know.

P
IPPETY
P
EW

HERE
was once a man who worked in the fields, and he had a wife, a son and a daughter.
One day he caught a hare, took it home to his wife and told her to make it ready for his dinner.

While it was on the fire cooking, the goodwife kept on tasting it till she had tasted it all away, and she didn’t know what to do for her husband’s dinner. So she called Johnnie, her
son, to come and have his hair combed. When she was combing his head, she slew him, and put him into the pot.

The goodman came home for his dinner, and his wife set down Johnnie to him well boiled. When he was eating, he took up a foot.

‘Surely that’s my Johnnie’s foot,’ said he.

‘Nonsense. It is one of the hare’s,’ said she.

Then he took up a hand.

‘That’s surely my Johnnie’s hand,’ said he.

‘You’re talking nonsense, goodman,’ said she. ‘That’s another of the hare’s feet.’

When the goodman had eaten his dinner, his daughter Katy gathered all the bones and put them below a stone at the cheek of the door.

Where they grew, and they grew,

To a milk-white doo,

That took to its wings,

And away it flew.

 

The dove flew till it came to a burn where two women were washing clothes. It sat down on a stone, and cried:

‘Pippety pew!

My mammy me slew,

My daddy me ate,

My sister Kate

Gathered all my banes,

And laid them between

Two milk-white stanes.

So a bird I grew,

And away I flew,

Sing Pippety Pew!’

‘Say that again, my pretty bird, and we’ll give you all these clothes,’ said one of the women.

‘Pippety Pew!

My mammy me slew,

My daddy me ate,

My sister Kate

Gathered all my banes,

And laid them between

Two milk-white stanes.

So a bird I grew,

And away I flew,

Sing Pippety Pew!’

The bird took the clothes, and away it flew till it came to a man counting a great heap of silver. It sat down beside him and cried:

‘Pippety Pew!

My mammy me slew,

My daddy me ate,

My sister Kate

Gathered all my banes,

And laid them between

Two milk-white stanes.

So a bird I grew,

And away I flew,

Sing Pippety Pew!’

‘Say that again, my bonny bird, and I’ll give you all this silver,’ said the man.

‘Pippety Pew!

My mammy me slew.

My daddy me ate,

My sister Kate

Gathered all my banes,

And laid them between

Two milk-white stanes.

So a bird I grew,

And away I flew,

Sing Pippety Pew!’

The man gave the bird all the silver. It flew till it came to a miller grinding corn, and cried:

‘Pippety Pew!

My mammy me slew,

My daddy me ate,

My sister Kate

Qathered all my banes,

And laid them between

Two milk-white stanes.

So a bird I grew,

And away I flew,

Sing Pippety Pew!’

BOOK: Folk Tales of Scotland
13.81Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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