Sheās in de ballroom now, Mossycoat is. De young master, heās waiting and watching for her. As soon as he sees her, he exes his father to send for de fastest horse in his stable, and hev it kept standing ready saddled at de door. Den he exes his mother to go over and talk to de young lady for a bit. She does dat, but canāt larn no more about her āan she did the night afore. Den de young master hears as his horse is ready at de door; so he goes over to de young lady, and exes her for a dance. She says jusā de same as de night afore, āNo,ā at first, but āYes,ā at de finish, and jusā as den, she says she musā go after when deyāve danced only once de length oā de room anā back. But dis time, he keeps howld ān her till dey gets outside. Den she wishes herselā at home, and is dere nearly as soon as sheās spoken. De young master felt her rise into de air, but couldnāt do nothing to stop her. But pāraps he did jusā touch her foot, as she dropped one slipper; I couldnāt be sure as he did; it looks a bit like it though. He picks de slipper up; but as for catching up wid her, it would be easier by far to catch up wid de wind on a blowy night. As soon as she gits home, Mossycoat changes back into her owld things; den she looses de tāother sarvants from de spell sheād put on āem. Deyāve been asleep agen, dey thinks, and offers her one a shilling, another a half a crown, a third a weekās wage, if she wonāt tell on āem; and she promises as she wonāt.
De young masterās in bed next day, a-dying for de love of de lady as lost one ān her silver slippers de night afore. De doctors canāt do him not de leastest good. So it was give out what his state was, and as it was only de lady able to wear de slipper as could save his life; and if sheād come forrad, heād marry her. De slippers, as I said earlier on, was only but three inches long, or dereabouts. Ladies came from near and far, some wid big feet and some wid small, but none small enough to git it on howiver much dey pinched and squeezed. Poorer people came as well, but it was jusā de same wid dem. And in course, all de sarvants tried, but dey was outān altogether. De young master was a-dying. Was dere nobody else, his mother exed, nobody at all, rich or poor? āNo,ā dey telt her, everybodyād tried it excepting it was Mossycoat.
āTell her to come at once,ā says de mistress.
So dey fetched her.
āTry dis slipper on,ā she saysādatās de mistress.
Mossycoat slips her foot into it easy enough; it fits her exacāly. De young master jumps out oā bed, and is jusā a-going to tek her in his arms.
āStop,ā she says, and runs off; but afore long sheās back agen in her satin dress wid gowld sprigs, her gowld crown, and both her silver slippers. De young master is jusā a-going to tek her in his arms.
āStop,ā she says, and agen she runs off. Dis time she comes back in her silk dress de color of all de birds oā de air. She donāt stop him dis time, and as de saying used to be, he nearly eats her.
After when deyās all settled down agen, and is talking quietlike, dereās one or two things as de master and mistress and de young masterāld like to know. How did she git to dance, and back agen, in no time, they exed her. āJusā wishing,ā she says, and she tells āem all as Iāve telt you about the magic coat her mother āed med for her, and de powers it give her if she cared to use āem. āYes, dat explains everything,ā dey says. Den dey bethinks theirselves of her saying as she came from where dey hit her on de head wid de skimmer. What did she mean by dat, dey wants to know. She meant jusā what she said, she telt āem; it was always coming down on her head, pop, pop, pop. They were right angry when dey heard dat, and de whole of de kitchen sarvants was telt to go, and de dogs sent arter dem to drive de varmints right away from de place.
As soon as dey could Mossycoat and de young master got married, and sheād a coach and six to ride in, ai, ten if she liked, for you may be sure as sheād everything as she fancied. Dey lived happy ever after, and had a basketful oā children. I was dere when de owld son comed of age, a-playing de fiddle. But dat was many years back, and I shouldnāt wonder if de owld master and mistress isnāt dead by now, though Iāve niver heerd tell as dey was.
5
Little Rosy
Recorded from Ruth L. Tongue, September 29, 1963, as she heard it from a Blackdown shepherd in Somerset in 1903. The tune was learned from Brendon Hills children, who sang it to a kind of singing game in Taunton in 1907.
This is Type 720, My Mother Slew Me; My Father Ate Me, The Juniper Tree. Key motifs are E613.0.1, āReincarnation of murdered child as birdā; āG61, Relativeās flesh eaten unwittinglyā; N271, āMurder will outā; and āS31, Cruel stepmotherā Type 720 is well-known in the Grimm version, No.47, āThe Juniper Tree,ā and is found throughout Europe. In England it is reported from Devonshire by Baring-Gould (āThe Rose-treeā in Henderson, Northern Counties, pp. 314ā17), from Yorkshire by Addy (Folk-Lore, VIII, 1897, āThe Satin Frock,ā pp. 394ā95), and from Lincolnshire by Gutch and Peacock (County Folk-Lore No. 5, āOrange and Lemon,ā p. 325). The School of Scottish Studies, Edinburgh, has two texts collected by Hamish Henderson, āOrangie and Applieā from Aberdeen, and a version of special interest from Perthshire, told by fourteen-year-old Jimmy McPhee. Here the murdered girl is brought back to her true form when her motherās grave is dug up and the ring turned on her finger. Published Scottish versions are in Robert Chambers, Popular Rhymes of Scotland, āThe Milk-White Doo,ā p. 52, and Norah and William Montgomerie, The Well at the Worldās End (London, Hogarth Press, 1956), āPippety Pew,ā pp. 34ā37. For the United States Baughman gives ten examples, eight from southern Negroes. Halpert discusses British variants in his note (p. 195) to an Ozark text (pp. 53ā54), āPennywinkle! Pennywinkle!ā published by Vance Randolph in Who Blowed Up the Church House? Stith Thompson speaks of its oral currency and cante-fable tendency in The Folktale, p. 116.
The idea of the soul of the dead child growing out of the body as a tree, out of which a bird springs, is both widespread and primitive. The English singing game, āOld Roger is Dead,ā exemplifies a similar belief (Alice B. Gomme, The Traditional Games of England, Scotland, and Ireland, II, 16ā24).
āTallatā is an attic or loft; āmarlyā is marble.
ROSY WERE A little maid as had a stepmother and her were so wicked and good-for-nothing as twopennorth of God-help-us stuck on a stick. Rosy hadnā no love for she.
One day she took ān sended Rosy for to get someāat out of gurt chest up over in tallat. And the lid valled down on Rosy and killed ān.
There her was with her head cutted off by thic lid, and thic wicked toad tookān and cookedān and made she into pies vor her father and her two liddle sisters. And they tookān and they went and eatān and likeān too, and thic wicked toad her buried all they bones.
But Rosy her ācorned againā like a ghostie bird all a-trembley and a-whivery and singeth:
My Mammy her killed I ān put I in pies
My vather did eat I ān āer said I were nice
My two liddle zisters they zucked my bones
And buried I under they marly stones
They marly stones, they marly stones
And buried I under they marly stones.
And when her vather heardān, he took a cold shiver, and he run, and the liddle zisters run too. And no one wouldnā neighbor with the wicked toad, zo her died lonesome.
6
The Man Who Wouldnāt Go Out at Night
Recorded from Ruth L. Tongue, September 29, 1963, as she heard it in Somerset at the Brompton Ralph Womenās Institute in 1962. She knew other versions told between 1930 and 1940 by a blacksmith at Vellow, a cottage woman at Monksilver, and a farmerās wife at Elworthy.
Motifs present are M211, āMan sells soul to the devil,ā and K212, āDevil cheated by being frightened,ā both common in the humorous devil stories told throughout northern Europe. In āFinn MacCuil and the Scotch Giant,ā in Patrick Kennedy, Legendary Fictions of the Irish Celts (London, 1866), pp. 203ā205, Finnās wife frightens away the giant with her witty tricks. Captain Marryat retells the tale in his novel Peter Simple.
āAllerntideā is All Hallows. āTo nurseyā is to have a child.
THERE WERE A varmer, a girt upstandable chap, and āe wouldnāt go out arter dark not if it was ever so. āTwas all very fine to summertime, but when Allerntide come along and winter, ātwas turāble bad for varm. There mid be stock to veed, anā cows to milky, and lambs to help into this wordle, but āe wouldnāt go out, no, not if you begged āen. Well, āis wife āer were āgoinā to nursey,ā and āer grew worrited. Supposing āer should want doctor night-time, āeād be bound to go vetch āen, but no, āe wulldnāt, not if ātwere ever so bad. Well then, āer reckoned ātwas summat bad, vor āer knowed āe were mortial vond oā she, zo āer gets around ān until āe tells āer. When āe were a silly young lad, heād sold āisself, zee, and now time were nearly up, and Bogey were a-waiting vor ān. He couldnāt catch āen till dark, zo that were why āe bided indoors beāind the lintel.
Well, she began to think like, ābout āow she could save the man and the baby and the varm. So āer gets a plough-coulter, and āer makes āen red-āot, and āer puts āen inside a girt pie-crust, as āad a criss-cross oā salt on it. Then āer do call out oā window, āWe be coming, zur, my man be a-coming, would āee like a bit oā pie to goo on with?ā
Well, Bogey, āe grab pie, and took a bite. Dunno what come to āis teeth with that little lot, but āe was scorched bewtifull. Then āer up and āer say, āUs wonāt be long, zur. We be a-coming, zur.ā āWho be?ā says Bogey, all of a sudden suspicious-like. That there criss-cross oā salt āad fair burned āe.
āWhy, I be aācoming, wiā my dear āusband,ā says she, āto cook vor āee both.ā
Well, at that, they do tell, Bogey give a screech as zunk two ships off Lundy, and took off away vor Tanton. And from what I zee oā volks down there, I reckon āe bided.
Part II
Legends