So he gave the glove back to Sally.
But Sally’s mother got to know about her losing the glove, and said, “Where did you find it?”
Sally said, “I daren’t tell, for if I do the old man will fetch me out of bed at twelve o’clock at night.”
Her mother said, “I will bar all the doors and fasten all the windows and then he can’t get in and fetch thee.” And she made Sally tell her where she had found her glove.
So Sally’s mother barred all the doors and fastened all the windows, and Sally went to bed at ten o’clock that night and began to cry. At eleven she began to cry louder, and at twelve o’clock she heard a voice saying in a whisper, but gradually getting louder and louder:
“Sally, I’m up one step.”
“Sally, I’m up two steps.”
“Sally, I’m up three steps.’
“Sally, I’m up four steps.”
“Sally, I’m up five steps.”
“Sally, I’m up six steps.”
“Sally, I’m up seven steps.”
“Sally, I’m up eight steps.”
“Sally, I’m up nine steps.”
“Sally, I’m up ten steps.”
“Sally, I’m up eleven steps.”
“Sally, I’m up twelve steps!”
“Sally, I’m at thy bedroom door!!”
“SALLY, I HAVE HOLD OF THEE!!!”
17
Why the Donkey is Safe
Recorded from Ruth L. Tongue, September 29, 1963, who heard it from an old gipsy woman in Worthy Wood above Porlock Weir, Somerset, in 1941.
The sign of the cross on a donkey’s back is supposed to protect it from witchcraft. T. F. Thiselton Dyer refers to the “common superstition” that the cross on the donkey comes from Christ’s having ridden it (English Folk-Lore, London, 1878, p.119). Also pertinent is G303.16.3, “Devils driven away by cross.” A Sunday-born child is “free from the malice of evil spirits and safe from the effects of over-looking and ill-wishing” (E. and M. A. Radford, Encyclopedia of Superstitions (New York, 1949), pp. 231–32. In Somerset, according to Ruth Tongue, a witch who inadvertently curses a Sunday-born child finds the curse rebounding on herself. In No. 19 (this volume), “The Sea Morgan and the Conger Eels,” the boy sent to drive away the mermaid was born on a Sunday. Also present is Motif D1273.1.3, “Seven as a magic number.”
“Galley-trap” is a Somerset name for a fairy ring, about which it is believed that if a thief or murderer sets foot in the ring he will end on the gallows.
THERE WERE A little, small, young dunk foal, and ’e wanted to take a look-see at life, so when ’is Mammy weren’t a-looking, ’e trit-trotted off on ’is wankly little legs. First go off, ’e met an old witch.
“I’ll ’ave ’ee,” says she. But when ’er grab ’en, ’er got burnded. “Yow,” says she, “yew was born on a Sunday, I’ll be bound!”
“Like all dunks, my Mammy d’ say,” said the little, small, young dunk foal, an’ ’e went on along.
Next go off, ’e met Bogey.
“I’ll ’ave ’ee,” say Bogey. But when ’e grab ’en, ’is fistseses fried. “Yow!” says Bogey, “yew got a criss-cross on your back. I can’t touch ’ee.”
“Like all dunks,” said the little, small, young dunk foal, an’ ’e went on along.
Then ’e come to a galley-trap, and pixies they come all about ’im.
“You go on out of that,” say they. “’Ere you come, just seven days old, and a criss-cross on your back, and us can’t ride ’ee.”
“Like all dunks, my Mammy d’ say,” said the little, small, young dunk foal, and back ’e goed.
When ’e got ’ome, first ’is Mammy kick ’un for going astray, and then ’er give ’en ’is dinner.
18
The Hunted Soul
Recorded from Ruth L. Tongue, September 28, 1963, who heard it several times in Somerset: in 1922 from a visiting game-keeper in Crowcombe Valley; in 1935 from a farmer’s wife in Coleford Water; and in 1940 from a Vellow blacksmith, who said, “Old Nick couldn’t touch she on account the old cob was shod.”
An almost identical story, also laid in Ellworthy, is given by Mrs. Bray in The Borders of the Tamar and the Tavy, II, pp. 114–16. In Charlotte S. Burne and Georgina Jackson, Shropshire Folk-Lore (London, 1883), pp. 28–32, an onlooker who watches Wild Eric’s Ride and speaks to the Wild Hunt suffers madness. Jacob Grimm devoted special attention to the Wild Hunt and its relation to witches in his Teutonic Mythology, III (tr. James Stallybrass, London, 1883), p. 1057. The Wild Hunt is well known in Germany and northern Europe.
A number of applicable submotifs can be found under Motif E501, “The Wild Hunt,” which has an extensive bibliography. Other motifs are G211.2.7, “Witch in form of a hare,” and G273.4, “Witch powerless to cross stream.”
Local names attached to the Wild Hunt are the “Devil and his Dandy Dogs,” the “Yeth Hounds,” and the “Gabriel Ratchets.” John Masefield wrote a poem on “The Hounds of Hell,” in which St Withiel volunteers to be pursued by the Wild Hunt (The Collected Poems of John Masefield, London, 1923, pp. 639–55).
