The Coming of the Unicorn (6 page)

Little Mary’s father and mother were out going to the village with a pony and trap when there came a terrible storm. The pony got frightened in the thunder. It ran away, bolted, and little Mary’s father and mother were killed in the accident. She was left all alone – no one to take care of her. Then, after her mother and father’s services had finished, they were buried. Lo and behold, one old woman came forward.

And she says, “I am Mary’s grandmother and I want to take care of the child.”

So, everyone was happy. People in the village thought that poor Mary didn’t have any friends or anyone to take care of her, but up turned the old grandmother. Little Mary went to live with her and this is where my story begins.

After a spell of time and many tears, Mary had cried because she missed her mother and father very much, she finally settled down with her grandmother in a little cottage beside a large forest. Her grandmother was a nice and kindly old soul and she loved Mary dearly. She kept some hens, some ducks and mostly geese, a lot of geese. Granny used to every month go to the market and sell some of the male geese, which she had brought and reared up, and kept the female geese to produce more. So, Mary really came to love her grandmother after she forgot about her daddy and mommy. She stayed with her grandmother for many, many months. Now she began to feel she was at home at last. She’d found someone who really did love her. But, her grandmother was very poor even though she owned some geese and some ducks and hens; because the few pennies she got at the
market she used to buy food for herself and for little Mary. But one evening Grandmother was sitting knitting by the fireside.

Mary came in by the fire and sat beside her, said, “Granny, you know it’s all right for you to sit knitting here, but it’s not very fun for me.”

And then Granny said, “Why, Mary, why?”

“Well,” she says, “I don’t have any friends to speak to. I can’t play with the hens or the geese or ducks that you have and I feel very lonely.”

“But, Mary, you have me!”

“But, Granny, some days you’re knitting and some days you’re ironing. Some days you’re working and I need someone to speak to, someone to love and someone to take care of.”

“Well,” she says, “Mary, probably I might get you a dog or a cat.”

“No, Granny, I don’t like dogs and I don’t like cats.”

“Well, then, Mary, would ye like to come with your granny to the market tomorrow?” The old woman felt very sad for her wee granddaughter. It was her only son’s daughter and she wanted to do everything in the world to please her and make her feel at home.

“Oh, yes, Grandmother,” she says, “I would love to go with you to the market tomorrow.”

“Well,” she said, “Mary, if you want to go with me, you must go to bed bright and early and make sure that you’re up to help me tomorrow, because I’ve got seven geese and we’re going to walk them to the market. We’ll sell them, get some money and then everything will be okay, and you’ll see some people there.”

“Oh, Granny, I would love to go…” Because she had never been with her granny to the market before.

Now, in this market all people came from around the country and they sold their animals. Some sold sheep and some sold goats; some sold calves and some hens, and some sold ducks. And they all met in the market in the village once a month.
Mary’s grandmother used to always make sure that she took something to sell at market. And when she sold something, it kept her going in money till she had something else to sell. But Mary never knew much about this. This was a new experience to Mary.

So, she was so excited that night when she went to bed she could barely sleep. Her grandmother had promised that she would buy her something in the market that would make her happy. True to her word, next morning Mary got down from her bed and she walked down. Granny was up. They had little to eat – they were very poor – some goat’s milk and some porridge.

And Grandmother said, “Now, Mary, you promised you would help me.”

And Mary said, “Yes, Grandmother…”

So she and her granny gathered seven of the fattest geese they could find in the yard. Granny took a stick and Mary took a stick and both of them drove the geese, walked them to the market. Mary was running in front and keeping them out of gates. Granny was coming behind and driving the geese. They hadn’t far to go, maybe about two miles. When they landed in the market, the man they heard who was auctioneer knew Mary’s grandmother very well. He saw the fat geese coming in. He helped and put them in a pen. Once the geese were penned in the market, they would be sold as seven fat geese. Grandmother took Mary and she bought her a wee bit o’ lunch.

“Now,” she said, “Mary, we’ll come and see the things getting sold.”

There were goats, sheep; there were cows, bulls, calves, all getting sold in the dozen; hens and ducks and geese. When you have something to sell you must wait your turn. So, the auctioneer sat up there and he sold cattle, sheep and ponies, goats and donkeys, everything till it came to Mary’s grandmother’s geese. And he sold them. He sold everything that was in the market;
but lo and behold, one thing he didn’t sell was a wee black bull calf, a wee calf – nobody seemed to want it.

Everybody was finished. They bought everything they needed. They went their way. And lo and behold, the wee bull calf was left on its own in a pen. And Mary after walking round and seeing all the animals, she came up beside the wee bull calf.

She put her arms round its neck and said, “I love you, you’re so nice,” and she petted the wee bull calf, a wee black calf.

Grandmother was up by the auctioneer getting paid for her geese. She came down and searched for Mary. She couldn’t find her. And she went round the ring, all the pens searching. Then she found Mary sitting beside the wee calf with her arms round its neck.

She says, “Come on, Mary, it’s time to go home. I’ve sold my geese and everything that’s in the market’s closing down for the night. We must go home.”

“But, Granny,” she said, “how about the wee calf here? It’s never been sold – there’s no one to take care of it.”

“Mary,” she says, “I don’t know who owns it.”

“Granny,” she said, “please, Granny, buy it for me!”

Granny says, “What in the world would you do, Mary?”

She says, “It’ll be company to me. I’ll take it home with me and I can look after it. I can talk to it and I can feed it grass. It’s a pet I want; I don’t want a dog, not a cat, Granny. Buy me this wee calf, please!”

“Well,” says Grandmother, “I have got some money for my geese today. I’ll go and see the auctioneer and see what he says about it.”

So, old Granny, to keep Mary happy, walked up to the auctioneer and said, “You’ve sold everything in the market today?”

And the auctioneer said, “Yes, everything apart from one wee calf, a bull calf. Nobody seems to want it.”

“Well,” she said, “would you sell it to me?”

And the auctioneer knew the old grandmother. He says, “Granny what will you do with a bull calf? It will grow into a bull; it will probably get you into trouble when it grows up to be a big bull. It’ll no be a calf for long.”

She said, “Would you sell it to me? My wee granddaughter has made friends with it and she wants it. She won’t have anything else. I’ve offered her a dog or a cat, and she has not time for hens or geese.”

“Well,” the auctioneer said, “it’s not worth very much. It’s only just a wee black calf. I don’t know where it came from. It came in among some cattle today. Some farmer brought it from the forest and said it wasn’t his. Nobody seems to own it. Nobody seems to know who owns it… Why, if you want it, I’ll not sell it to ye; I’ll give it to ye because the market’s closing. Take it with you if you feel fit!”

“Thank you!” says the old granny. “You sure you don’t want some money for it?”

“No,” says the auctioneer, “I don’t want any money for it, because there’s not an animal left except it in the market – take it with you if it’s any good to you. But bring it back when it gets big and I’ll sell it for you!”

The old grandmother toddled down. She was very old. She toddled down to Mary. Mary was sitting with her arms round the wee calf and it was licking her hand. It was just a wee black calf about seven or eight weeks old and its eyes were shining as bright as stars. Mary had her arms round its neck.

Her grandmother says to her, “Mary, we have to go home.”

“Granny, we can’t go home. Not tonight we can’t go home and leave this little creature itself, because it has no one to take care of it.”

She says, “Mary,
you
can take care of it!”

“Oh, Grandmother, did you get it for me? Did you buy it for
me?”

“Yes,” she says, “Mary, it’s yours. From now on it’s yours. You have it, you keep it and I hope it’ll be good to you. Take care of it, because it’s your friend and I got it for you.”

Lo and behold, they opened the gate. Mary and her old grandmother walked out and the wee black bull calf followed them. It followed Mary as if it had known her for many, many months. So, Grandmother got a few messages on her way that she needed to buy. They walked home to their little house near the forest and the calf walked with them, behind them. And Mary just loved it from the heart – every step she was taking she was looking back to see was it still there – but it walked on behind her, its nose behind her all the way!

She says, “Grandmother, I love this like nothing else. I don’t want dogs, I don’t want cats. I want nothing!”

Now, Mary wasn’t very old, she was about twelve, a handsome young lassie with long hair, beautiful young girl. So, they walked home to their little house beside the forest as Mary was so excited. There was nothing in the world that meant anything to her but this calf.

“Granny,” she said, “we’ll find some place for it to sleep?”

“Oh, Mary, you’ll find it some place to sleep. We’ll put it in one of the sheds that’s empty now. The geese are gone. We’ll put it in the shed that the geese used to be in.”

So, no way in the world… before Mary got a bit to eat that night, she took it into one of the sheds where the geese slept. She made a bed for it of beautiful hay. She brought it a pail of water and she put it – she never tied it – she put it in the shed. And after she had taken care of it, she walked in to her grandmother.

They had a little lunch together and her grandmother called her beside her. “Mary, come here and I want to talk to ye. Sit on my knee, Mary,” and Mary sat on her grandmother’s knee. “Now,” she said, “you must understand, ye’re growing to be a big
girl and you’ve got something to take care of.”

“Oh, Granny, I love it so dearly. I love my calf so dearly. Granny, I’ll look after it. It’ll not be any trouble to you in any way. I’ll look after it. I’ll take care of it, feed it and it’ll not give ye any trouble. But please, please, Granny, please, would you give me a promise?”

And Granny says, “Yes, I’ll give you a promise.”

“Granny, please will ye never sell it?”

“Oh, well, Mary, if you love it so much as that, I’ll not sell it.”

But anyway, they began to settle down and times passed, months passed by. Mary took care of her calf and Granny took care of the hens and her ducks. And Mary loved her calf. She went walking with it. She took it everywhere she went. But Mary walking with her calf and feeding it and taking care of it, her clothes began to get kind o’ withered, tattery and torn. One day she came in.

Granny says, “Where have you been, Mary?”

“Oh, I was out in the forest walking with my calf.”

“Mary,” she says, “ye’re in a terrible state. Your coat is torn and it’s ragged. Ye know I’m very poor and I canna buy ye a coat or anything.”

“Granny,” she says, “well, patch it for me!”

“No, there’s too many patches on it already. I can’t put another patch in it.”

“Well, Granny,” she says, “make me a coat, knit me a coat!”

“Mary, I canna knit ye a coat. I don’t have enough thread. But I’ll tell ye what to do, Mary; my old grandmother a long time ago was very clever and she taught me many things. If you will go out into the moor, in the rushie moor, and cut me some rushes, I’ll make ye a coat.”

“Oh, Granny, ye couldn’t make me a coat from rushes!”

She says, “Mary, I’ll make ye a coat like the old people used to do a long time ago. If you make up your mind to cut me some
rushes like the rushes I want, I’ll make ye a coat!”

Well, Mary was very pleased. “Granny, I can cut ye rushes.” And beside where they stayed was a rushie moor where all the rushes grew very high, five foot high. And people long ago used to split the rushes up. They wove them; they could make cloth from them like they do with the flax. So, Mary made up her mind that she was going to have a coat. She went into the back of the shed. She got an old sickle that was used by her grandfather who had died many years before, and she went on the moor. She cut the rushes, bunches and bunches and bunches of rushes. And the calf came with her.

The calf was nodding, pushing her with his head and he’s nodding with her. He played and he jumped and he cocked his tail round his back. He ran round the field. Mary was still cutting the rushes. The calf was always with her, but it was getting bigger and bigger as the days went by. Mary gathered bundle and bundle and bundle o’ rushes. She brought them back. And her granny sat. She split them down, took the hearts off and she weaved them. She sat and weaved them day after day, day after day. And lo and behold, she made Mary a coat – the most beautiful green coat that you’ve ever seen in your life. Nobody in the village had a coat like this, because it was made from rushes.

When Granny was finished with the coat she said, “There you are, Mary, there’s your coat!” And Mary tried it on. Mary loved this coat like nothing in the world. She put it on and it just fitted her, made from rushes.

So, she used to walk to the village; Granny smoked a pipe and she used to go for tobacco and some things for her. And when all the people in the village saw Mary coming, they saw her with this strange coat on made from rushes. Even the children used to call her “Mary Rushiecoats”. But Mary visited the village many, many times and the people in the shops said, “Oh, here comes Mary Rushiecoats again with her wee black bull.”