by Howard Pyle
Oh, Master Jacob did not want to part with his horn: all the same, if he had to sell it, he would just as fief that they should buy it as anybody. So they bargained and bargained, and the end of the matter was that they paid down another fifty dollars and marched off with the little tin horn, blowing away at it for dear life.
By and by they came home, and there stood the goat, nibbling at the grass in front of the house and thinking of no harm at all. "So!" says the provost, "was it you that would do nothing for us without our saying, `By the great horn spoon?' Take that then!" And he fetched the goat a thwack with his heavy walking-staff so that it fell down, and lay with no more motion than a stone. "There," says he, "that business is done; and now lend me the horn a minute, brother, till I fetch him back again."
Well, he blew and he blew, and he blew and he blew, till he was as red in the face as a cherry, but the goat moved never so much as a single hair. Then the priest took a turn at the horn, but he had no better luck than the provost. Last of all the mayor had a try at it; but he might as well have blown the horn over a lump of dough for all the answer he had for his blowing.
Then it began to work into their heads that they had been befooled again. Phew! what a passion they were in. I can only say that I am glad that I was not in Master Jacob's shoes. "We'll put him in prison right away," said they, and off they went to do as they said.
But Master Jacob saw them coming down the road, and was ready for them this time too. He took two pots and filled them with pitch, and over the top of the pitch he spread gold and silver money, so that if you had looked into the pots you would have thought that there was nothing in them but what you saw on the top. Then he took the pots off into the little woods back of the house. Now in the woods was a great deep pit, and all around the pit grew a row of bushes, so thick that nothing was to be seen of the mouth of the hole.
By and by came the priest and the mayor and the provost to Master Jacob's house, puffing and blowing and fuming.
Rap! rap! tap! they knocked at the door, but nobody was there but Master Jacob's wife.
Was Master Jacob at home? That was what they wanted to know, for they had a score to settle with him.
Oh, Master Jacob's wife did not know just where he was, but she thought that he was in the little woods back of the house yonder, gathering money.
Phew! and did money grow so near to the house as all that? This was a matter to be looked into, for if money was to be gathered they must have their share. So off they went to the woods, hot-foot.
Yes; there was Master Jacob, sure enough, and what was more, he was carrying two pots, one on each arm.
"Hi! Master Jacob, and what have you there?" said they.
"Oh, nothing much," says Master Jacob.
Yes; that was all very good, but they would like to look into those pots that he was carrying; that was what the three cronies said.
"Well," says Master Jacob, "you may look into the pots if you choose; all the same, I will tell you that they are both full of pitch, and that there is only just a little money scattered over the top.
Yes, yes; that was all very well, but the three cronies knew the smell of money from the smell of pitch. See now, they had been fooled twice already, and were not to be caught again. Now, where did Master Jacob get that money, that was what they wanted to know.
"Oh," says Master Jacob, "I cannot tell you that; if you want to gather money you will have to look for it yourselves. But you must not go too near to those thick bushes yonder, for there is a deep pit hidden there, and you will be sure to fall into it."
When the priest and the provost and the mayor heard this, they nudged one another with their elbows and winked with one eye. They knew how much of that cheese to swallow. They would just take a look at this wonderful pit, for they thought that the money was hidden in the bushes for sure and certain. So off they went as fast as they could lay foot to the ground.
"Just you stay here," said the priest to the others, "while I go and see whether there really is a pit as he said." For he thought to himself that he would go and gather a pocketful of the money before it would be share and share with his comrades. So, into the thicket he jumped, and--plump!--he fell into the great, deep pit; and there was an end of number one.
By and by the others grew tired of tarrying. "I'll go and see what he is waiting for," says the provost. For he thought to himself, "He is filling his pockets, and I might as well have my share." So, into the thicket he jumped, and--plump!--he fell into the great, deep pit; and there was an end of number two.
As for the mayor, he waited and waited. "What a fool am I," said he at last, "to sit here twiddling my thumbs while the two rogues yonder are filling their pockets without me. It is little or nothing but the scraps and the bones that I will come in for."
So the upshot of the matter was that he too ran and jumped into the thicket, and heels over head into the great, deep pit, and there was an end of number three. And if Master Jacob ever helped them out, you may depend upon it that he made them promise to behave themselves in time to come.
And this is true that I tell you: it would have been cheaper for them to have bought their pork in the first place, for, as it was, they paid a pretty penny for it.
As for Master Jacob and his good wife, they had a hundred dollars in good hard money, and if they did not get along in the world with that, why I, for one, want nothing more to do with them.
XIV
Two O'clock.
They shake the Bread-Crumbs
Out of the Door,
They scrub the Table,
And sand the Floor;
They shoo out the Chickens,
And Cats, and all,
And say, "Run, Johnnie,
And play with your Ball."
Peterkin and the Little Grey Hare.
XIV.
THERE was a man who died and left behind him three sons, and nothing but two pennies to each. So, as there was little to be gained by scraping the dish at home, off they packed to the king's house, where they might find better faring. The two elder lads were smart fellows enough; as for Peterkin, he was the youngest--why, nobody thought much of him.
So off they went--tramp! tramp! tramp!--all three together. By and by they came to a great black forest where little was to be seen either before or behind them.
There old Father Hunger met them, and that was the worse for them, for there was nothing at all to eat. They looked here and there, and, after a while, what should they come across but a little grey hare caught in a snare.
Then, if anybody was glad, it was the two elder brothers. "Here is something to stay our stomachs," said they.
But Peterkin had a soft heart in his breast. "See, brothers," said he, "look how the poor thing turns up its eyes. Sure it would be a pity to take its life, even though our stomachs do grumble a bit."
But the two elder brothers were deaf in that ear. They had gone without their dinners long enough, and they were no such foolish fellows as to throw it away, now that it had come to them.
But Peterkin begged and begged, until, at last, the two said that they would let the Little Grey Hare go free if he would give them the two pennies that he had in his pocket.
Well, Peterkin let them have the pennies, and they let the hare go, and glad enough it was to get away, I can tell you.
"See, Peterkin," it said, speaking as plainly as a Christian, "you shall lose nothing by this. When you are in a tight place, whistle on your fingers--thus--and perhaps help will come to you."
Then it thumped its feet on the ground and away it scampered.
As for Peter's brothers, they laughed and laughed. A fool and his money were soon parted, said they. How could a little grey hare help him, they should like to know?
After a while they came to the town, where Peterkin's brothers took up their lodgings at a good inn. As for Peterkin, he had to go and sleep in the straw, for one cannot spend money and have it both. So while the brothers were eating broth with meat in it,
Peterkin went with nothing.
"I wonder," said he, "if the Little Grey Hare can help me now." So he whistled on his fingers, just as it had told him.
Then who should come hopping and skipping along but the Little Grey Hare itself. "What do you want, Peterkin?" it said.
"I should like," said Peterkin, "to have something to eat."
"Nothing easier than that," said the Little Grey Hare; and before one could wink twice a fine feast, fit for a king, was spread out before him, and he fell to as though he had not eaten a bite for seven years.
After that he slept like a flat stone, for one can sleep well even in the straw, if one only has a good supper within one.
When the next morning had come, the two elder brothers bought them each a good new coat with brass buttons. Peterkin they said would have to go as he was, for patches and tatters were good enough for such a spend thrift.
But Peterkin knew a way out of that hole. Back of the house he went, and there he blew on his fingers.
"What will you have?" said the Little Grey Hare
"I should like," said Peterkin, "to have a fine new suit of clothes, so that I can go to the king's house with my brothers and not be ashamed."
"If that is all that you want," said the Hare, "it is little enough;" and there lay the finest suit of clothes that Peterkin had ever seen, for it was all of blue silk sewed with golden threads. So Peterkin dressed himself in his fine clothes, and you may guess how his brothers stared when they saw him.
Off they all went to the king's house, and there was the king feeding his chickens; for that was all the work he had upon his hands, and an easy life he led of it. The king looked at Peterkin, and thought that he had never seen such fine clothes. Did they want service? Well, the king thought that he might give it to them. The oldest brother might tend the pigs, the second might look after the cows. But as for Peterkin, he was so spruce and neat that he might stay in the house and open the door when folks knocked. That was what his fine clothes did for him.
So Peterkin had the soft feathers in that nest, for he sat in the warm chimney all day, and had the scraping of the pipkins when good things had been cooked.
Well, things went quietly enough for a while, but the elder brothers kept up a great buzzing in their heads, I can tell you; for one does not like to see another step in front of one, and that is the truth.
So, one day, who should come to the king but the two elder brothers. Perhaps, said they, the king did not know it, but there was a giant over yonder who had a grey goose that laid a golden egg every day of her life. Now Peterkin had said more than once, and over and over again, that he was man enough to get the grey goose for the king whenever the king wanted it. You can guess how this tickled the king's ears. Off he sent for Peterkin, and Peterkin came.
Hui! how Peterkin opened his eyes when he heard what the king wanted. He had never said that he could get the giant's goose; he vowed and swore that he had not. But it was to no purpose that he talked, the king wanted the grey goose, and Peterkin would have to get it for him. He might have three days for the business, and that was all. Then, if he brought the grey goose, he should have two bags of gold money; if he did not bring it he should pack off to the prison.
So Peterkin left the king, and if anybody was down in the mouth in all of the world it was Peterkin.
"Perhaps," said he, "the Little Grey Hare can help me." So he blew a turn or two on his fingers, and the Little Grey Hare came hopping and skipping up to him.
What was Peterkin in the dumps about now? That was what it wanted to know.
Why, the king wanted him to get such and such a grey goose from over at the giant's house, and Peterkin knew no more about it than a red herring in a box; that was the trouble.
"Oh, well," says the Little Grey Hare, "maybe that can be cured; just go to the king and ask for this and that and the other thing, and we will see what can be done about the business."
So off went Peterkin to the king; perhaps he could get the grey goose after all, but he must have three barrels of soft pitch, and a bag of barley-corn, and a pot of good tallow.
The king let him have all that he wanted, and then the Little Grey Hare took Peterkin and the three barrels of soft pitch and the bag of barley-corn and the pot of good tallow on its back, and off it went till the wind whistled behind Peterkin's ears.
(Now that was a great load for a little grey hare; but I tell the story to you just as Time's Clock told it to me.)
After a while they came to a river, and then the Little Grey Hare said:
"Brother Pike! Brother Pike! Here are folks would like to cross the wide river."
Then up came a great river pike, and on his back he took Peterkin and the Little Grey Hare and the three barrels of pitch and the sack of barley-corn and the pot of good tallow, and away he swam till he had brought them from this side to that.
(Now that was a great load for a river pike to carry; but as Time's Clock told the story to me I tell it to you.)
Then the Little Grey Hare went on and on again until it came to a high hill, and on the top of the high hill was a great house; that was where the giant lived.
Then Peterkin took the soft pitch and made a wide pathway of it. After that he smeared his feet all over with the tallow, so that he stuck to the soft pitch no more than water sticks to a cabbage leaf. Then he shouldered his bag of barley-corn and went up to the giant's castle, and hunted around and hunted around until he had found where the grey goose was; and it was in the kitchen and would not come out. But Peterkin had a way to bring it; he scattered the barley-corn all about, and when the grey goose saw that, it came out quickly enough and began to eat the grains as fast as it could gobble. But Peterkin did not give it much time for this, for up he caught it, and off he went as fast as he could scamper.
Then the grey goose flapped its wings and began squalling. "Master! master! Here I am! here I am! It is Peterkin who has me! '
Out ran the giant with his great iron club, and after Peterkin he came as fast as he could lay foot to the ground. But Peterkin had the buttered side of the cake this time, for he ran over the pitch road as easily as though it were made of good stones; that was because his boots were smeared with tallow. As for the giant, he stuck to it as a fly sticks to the butter, so that it was very slow travelling that he made of it.
Then the hare took Peterkin up on its back, and away it scampered till the wind whistled behind his ears. When it had come to the river it said:
"Brother Pike! Brother Pike! Here are folks would like to cross the wide river."
Then the pike took them on its back and away they went. But it was a tight squeeze through that crack, I can tell you, for they had hardly left the shore when up came the giant, fuming and boiling like water in the pot.
"Is that you, Peterkin?" said he.
"Yes; it is I," said Peterkin.
"And did you steal my grey goose?" said the giant.
"Yes; I stole your grey goose," said Peterkin.
"And what would you do if you were me and I were you?" said the giant.
"I would do what I could," said Peterkin.
After that the giant went back home, shaking his head and talking to himself.
So the king got the grey goose, and was as glad as glad could be. And Peterkin got the bags of gold, and was glad also. Thus there were two in the world pleased at the same time.
And now the king could not make too much of Peterkin. It was Peterkin here and Peterkin there, till Peterkin's brothers were as sour as bad beer over the matter.
So, one day, they came buzzing in the king's ear again; perhaps the king did not know it, but that same giant had a silver bell, and every time that the bell was rung a good dinner was spread ready for the eating. Now, Peterkin had been saying to everybody that he could get that bell for the king just as easily as he had gotten the grey goose. At this the king pricked up his ears, for it tickled them to hear such talk. He sent for Peterkin to come to him, and Peterkin came. He vowed and swore
that he had said nothing about getting the giant's bell. But it was of no use; he only wasted his breath. The king wanted the silver bell, and the king must have it. Peterkin should have three days in which to get it. If he brought it at the end of that time, he should have half of the kingdom to rule over. If he did not bring it he should have his ears clipped; so there was an end of that talk.
It was a bad piece of business, but off Peterkin went and blew on his fingers, and up came the Little Grey Hare.
"Well," said the Little Grey Hare, "and what is the trouble with us now?"
Why, the king wanted a little silver bell that was over at the giant's house, and he had to go and get it for him; that was the trouble with Peterkin.
"Well," says the Little Grey Hare, "there is no telling what one can do till one tries; just get a little wad of tow and come along, and we will see what we can make of it."
So Peterkin got the wad of tow, and then he sat him on the Little Grey Hare's back, and away they went till the wind whistled behind his ears. When they came to the river the Little Grey Hare called on the pike, and up it came and carried them over as it had done before. By and by they came to the giant's house, and this time the giant was away from home, which was a lucky thing for Peterkin.
Peterkin climbed into the window, and hunted here and there till he had found the little silver bell. Then he wrapped the tow around the clapper, but, in spite of all that he could do, it made a jingle or two. Then away he scampered to the Little Grey Hare. He mounted on its back, and off they went.
But the giant heard the jingle of the little silver bell, and home he came as fast as his legs could carry him.
He hunted here and there till he found the track of Peterkin, then after him he went, three miles at a step.
When he came to the river, there was Peterkin, just out of harm's way.