by Jan Andrews
“I will! I will!” said the mouse.
He went to the raven as quick as he could run there.
“Raven,” he said, “I must have one of your feathers to take to the mine, so the mine will give me a sack of coal to take to the locksmith, so the locksmith will give me a key to take to the barn, so the barn will give me a bale of hay to take to the cow, so the cow will give me a saucer of milk to take to the cat, so the cat will give me my nice, long tail back that I need to wrap around me when I’m sleeping in the winter that is so icy and so cold.”
“I will give you one of my feathers,” said the raven, “but you must do something for me. You must go to the sow and bring me one of her piglets.”
“I will! I will!” said the mouse.
He went to the sow as quick as he could run there.
“Sow,” he said, “I must have one of your piglets to take to the raven, so the raven will give me one of his feathers to take to the mine, so the mine will give me a sack of coal to take to the locksmith, so the locksmith will give me a key to take to the barn, so the barn will give me a bale of hay to take to the cow, so the cow will give me a saucer of milk to take to the cat, so the cat will give me my nice, long tail back that I need to wrap around me when I’m sleeping in the winter that is so icy and so cold.”
“I will give you one of my piglets,” said the sow, “but you must do something for me. You must go to the cheese maker and fetch me a bucket of swill.”
“I will! I will!” said the mouse.
He went to the cheese maker as quick as he could run there.
“Cheese maker,” he said, “I must have a bucket of swill to take to the sow, so she will give me one of her piglets to take to the raven, so the raven will give me one of his feathers to take to the mine, so the mine will give me a sack of coal to take to the locksmith, so the locksmith will give me a key to take to the barn, so the barn will give me a bale of hay to take to the cow, so the cow will give me a saucer of milk to take to the cat, so the cat will give me my nice, long tail back that I need to wrap around me when I’m sleeping in the winter that is so icy and so cold.”
“I will give you a bucket of swill,” said the cheese maker, “but you must do something for me. You must go to the well to fetch me a bucket of water.”
“I will! I will!” said the mouse.
He came to the well as quick as he could run there.
“Well,” he said, “I must have a bucket of water to take to the cheese maker, so he will give me a bucket of swill to take to the sow, so the sow will give me one of her piglets to take to the raven, so the raven will give me one of his feathers to take to the mine, so the mine will give me a sack of coal to take to the locksmith, so the locksmith will give me a key to take to the barn, so the barn will give me a bale of hay to take to the cow, so the cow will give me a saucer of milk to take to the cat, so the cat will give me my nice, long tail back that I need to wrap around me when I’m sleeping in the winter that is so icy and so cold.”
“I will give you a bucket of water,” said the well, “but you will have to haul it up.”
“I will! I will!” said the mouse.
He hauled up the bucket of water. He took the bucket of water to the cheese maker. The cheese maker gave the mouse a bucket of swill. The mouse took the bucket of swill to the sow. The sow gave the mouse one of her piglets. The mouse took the piglet to the raven. The raven gave the mouse one of his feathers. The mouse took the feather to the mine. The mine gave the mouse a sack of coal. The mouse took the sack of coal to the locksmith. The locksmith gave the mouse a key. The mouse took the key to the barn. The barn gave the mouse a bale of hay. The mouse took the hay to the cow. The cow gave the mouse a saucer of milk. The mouse took the milk to the cat.
“What a long time you’ve taken,” the cat said.
She lapped up the milk and she gave the mouse his tail back.
He didn’t just wrap it around him when he was sleeping in the winter that is so icy and so cold. He wrapped it around him when the cat set the spinning wheel to whirring and to thrumming. He covered his ears with it. That way, he never got another headache. He wasn’t tempted to bite the cat’s thread Off ever again for the rest of his life.
And if you’re wanting to know why the mine needed a feather, I’ll tell you. It’s because a feather is so light. If a feather was on the floor of a mine, and that feather started to shake you’d know the earth was moving and the walls were about to come tumbling. Isn’t that interesting, then?
What’s that at the door?
It’s a story. It’s entering in with a bow.
It’s come in a sort of a carriage,
Though really I’m not quite sure how.
It seems to be awfully eager.
It’s finding a place on a chair.
It’s telling us all to come closer.
It just wants us all to be there.
Once upon a time — that wasn’t my time or your time, but it certainly was a long-ago time — there was a girl, and her name was Jamilla. She lived with her mother. They had a little store where people could get the things they needed. The store was in a village. The village was in a valley with forests all about.
One evening a wind came sighing through the village from the treetops. The sound of the wind was like a sad voice calling round the house.
“Close the doors and pull the drapes tighter together so I won’t hear it. It makes me shudder,” Jamilla’s mother said.
“What is this shuddering?” Jamilla asked her.
“It’s a shaking you get when you’re afraid of something,” her mother replied.
“I’ve never been afraid of anything,” said Jamilla. “I’ve never shuddered.”
“That worries me,” her mother told her.
“Do you suppose, if I went looking in the world, I could find out how to shudder?” Jamilla demanded.
“I’m sure you could,” her mother said.
First thing in the morning, Jamilla set off. She decided she’d start by talking to the schoolteacher. After all, he was the one who was supposed to know whatever needed knowing, because he read so many books.
The schoolteacher was in the schoolhouse.
“I have to learn to shudder,” she told him.
“That shouldn’t be so diffcult,” he said.
He caught a spider with great, long, hairy legs. He put the spider on the table. The spider ran toward Jamilla. She picked the spider up. She put it where no one would step on it.
“You’re going to need more help than I can give you,” the schoolteacher announced.
Jamilla thanked the schoolteacher for his trouble. She left the village and started to walk. She followed the road through the forest. She followed the road up hills and down into valleys. She followed it to where she saw a cabin Off in the distance on the edge of a marsh. She knocked on the door, as bold as brass.
The cabin had thieves in it. The thieves had knives and swords.
“I have to learn to shudder,” Jamilla told them.
The thieves were surprised she wasn’t shuddering at them. They gave her a meal. They made their minds up they’d do whatever they could to help her.
“You stay with us through the day tomorrow,” they said to her. “When it’s nighttime, you get on the road again. You keep on walking. You’ll come to a town. In the middle of the town you’ll find a gallows. On the gallows you’ll see the corpses of seven dead men. If you sit down beneath those corpses, you’ll be set to shuddering for sure.”
Jamilla thanked the thieves. She did as they’d told her. She waited through the daytime. At nighttime, she set off. She came to the town. She came to the gallows. She saw the seven dead corpses swinging and swaying from it. She sat herself down.
“We’re longing for a bit of living company,” the corpses moaned out to her.
“I’ll be company for you,” Jamilla said.
“You’re so far away,” the corpses cried.
“Come and sit with me the
n.”
The corpses climbed down. They sat right beside her. They told her their troubles. They waited till the cock crowed to show that it was almost morning. They said good-bye to her and then they climbed back up.
So what was supposed to make me shudder? Jamilla wondered. I’ll go to those thieves and ask.
The thieves were so surprised to see her, they ran off. They didn’t even bother to take their weapons with them. Jamilla was more puzzled than ever. She kept on traveling.
“I have to learn to shudder,” she said to everyone she came across along the way.
There were plenty that were ready to help her. Folks jumped out at her from behind trees and rocks and buildings; they led her into dark and dismal caves.
Someone sent her to a graveyard where a hand reached up out of the earth to grab her. She took hold of the hand and shook it. Someone else showed her how to find a huge, great monster. She sat the monster down and had a chat.
At last she came to where there was a river flowing down between two hillsides into the sea. On a hill by the river and overlooking the sea, there stood a mansion.
“That mansion’s haunted. You’ll shudder there,” the folks living nearby told her.
Jamilla went to the mansion’s owner. She got the key. She entered in through the mansion’s gates at sunset. She put the key into the lock. The mansion was dirty and dusty, because no one had been in it for ages. Jamilla thought it could do with a cleanup, but she didn’t mind.
Jamilla found a candle in a drawer in the kitchen. She lit the candle to give herself some light. She carried the candle into the enormous living room. She touched a match to the sticks and logs and paper that were ready in the fireplace. She settled herself in the rocking chair by the fire.
There was a clock in the living room. It struck one hour, and then it struck another. At ten o’clock, Jamilla heard a scratching.
“That must be someone wanting to come in,” she said to herself.
She went to the door. She saw two cats as big as tigers, almost. The cats were spitting and hissing. The cats had eyes of flame and long, sharp claws. The cats had teeth with bloodstains.
“Are you the Cats of Hell?” Jamilla asked them.
“We are,” the cats yeowled out.
“I expect you’re wanting to warm yourselves,” Jamilla said.
She brought the cats in. She let them sit by the fire. She stroked and stroked them. When the cats fell asleep, she fell asleep beside them. When she woke up in the morning, they were gone.
“I thought your mansion was where I was going to find out how to shudder,” Jamilla said to the mansion’s owner when she saw him.
“It’s terrified everyone else who ever tried to sleep there so much, they’ve run out half dead with fright,” the mansion’s owner said. “Here’s what we’ll do, though. The mansion has a spell on it. If you can stay for two more nights, the spell will be broken. I’ll give you a whole lot of money to take with you as a reward.”
“Maybe tonight’s the night there’ll be something to make me shudder,” Jamilla decided.
Back to the mansion she went; in through the gates at sunset. She found herself another candle. She went into the living room. She lit the fire. She settled herself in the rocking chair. The clock struck one hour. It struck two more. When it struck eleven, she heard a rattling and a dragging start up in the room above her.
“I suppose I should see what that is,” she said to herself.
She took the candle and she went up the great, wide stairs. She went into the room where the noise was. She saw a skeleton.
“Can I help you?” Jamilla asked it.
“I want to play catch, but I’ve no one to play with me,” the skeleton answered.
“I’ll play with you. Of course, I will,” Jamilla said.
The skeleton reached up. It took its skull off. It tossed the skull to her. Jamilla tossed it back. They played for maybe half an hour or more.
“I have to go to bed now,” the skeleton said. “I’m tired.”
“I’m tired too,” said Jamilla.
She went back down. She fell asleep in the rocking chair. In the morning, she went upstairs and into that same room again. She found the skeleton in a closet. It didn’t speak to her, so she left it where it was.
“I thought your mansion was where I was going to find out how to shudder,” Jamilla said to the mansion’s owner when she saw him.
“There’s only one more night till the spell is broken,” the mansion’s owner answered. “I think you should go back there.”
“Maybe tonight’s the night there’ll be something to make me shudder,” Jamilla decided.
Back to the mansion she went; in through the gates at sunset. She found herself another candle. She went into the living room. She lit the fire. The clock struck nine. It struck ten. It struck eleven. It started chiming midnight. With the last chime of midnight, she heard a slow, soft voice. The voice was calling from up the chimney.
“I’m coming down,” it said.
Jamilla was going to look up and see who the voice belonged to. She didn’t have time. A leg came tumbling. She had to rescue it. She had to get it out of the fire.
The voice called again. It was slow and soft still.
“I’m coming down,” it said.
Another leg fell. The voice called again.
“I’m coming down.”
There was an arm.
“I’m coming down.”
Another arm.
Jamilla was busy!
“I’m coming down.”
The trunk of a man’s body came thunking. The trunk was heavy. Jamilla checked the body parts out carefully. She went to the chimney.
“We need a head,” she called.
A head came too, then. Jamilla arranged the head and the trunk, the arms and the legs, so they were in all the right places. She put them together. The man they belonged to sat up.
“Would you like a drink of water?” Jamilla asked him.
“I would,” he answered.
Jamilla brought the water in a glass. The man drank the water. He thanked her. He walked Off through the wall. Jamilla settled herself back in the rocking chair.
“I thought your mansion was where I was going to find out how to shudder,” she said to the mansion’s owner when she saw him in the morning.
“I’m sorry if it failed you,” the mansion’s owner said. “Still, I’m a man of my word. You stayed there three whole nights. The spell must be broken. I’ll give you your reward.”
Jamilla took the money. She thanked him.
“It’s no good, is it?” she said to herself. “I can’t learn to shudder. I just can’t.”
Then she thought how the money the mansion’s owner had given her might be useful to her mother.
“I’ll go home to her,” she decided. “I’ll stop going farther and farther, on and on.”
She’d traveled a long distance by then. She’d walked all the way. She had to walk home as well. The journey took her a long, long while. When she came to where she could see her village, she got worried.
What if my mother has grown sick in all this time I’ve been away from her? she thought.
When she could see her own house, she started running.
What if something terrible has happened? What if my mother has died?
By the time she reached the door, she was shaking and shuddering all over.
“Mother! Oh, Mother!” she cried.
Her mother was there. She was as right as rain, but Jamilla started crying. “I was so afraid for you,” she said.
“There’s nothing the sight of you can’t cure,” her mother insisted.
“But if you should be lost to me.…”
“I’m not though, am I?”
Jamilla was shuddering worse than ever. She was shuddering so much her mother had to give her a hug and wrap her in a blanket and make her a cup of tea.
When Jamilla was better at last, the two of them sat toget
her at the table talking over everything that had happened since they’d parted.
“I went all that way. I never shuddered until I got back to my own doorstep,” Jamilla burst out.
“I expect there’s a lesson in that,” her mother told her.
“Most likely there is,” Jamilla answered. “I won’t think about that though, until the morning.”
“We’ll have our supper then,” her mother said.
What’s that at the door?
It’s a story. I’m surprised you can’t tell by yourself.
When it’s putting its bags by the bedpost,
When it’s laying its socks on the shelf.
I don’t think we’ll find one that’s better,
Or one we’ll be gladder to meet.
Not now, when the wind’s all a-blowing,
And shaking the world at our feet.
You can guess when this happened. It happened once upon a time.
That time now it wasn’t my time or your time. It wasn’t the time when the moon was made of good green cheese, either. It was the time when there were these three brothers and two of them were really smart, but one of them wasn’t — and his name was Jack.
They lived together, all of them, in a town on the prairies. One fall they decided they’d go hunting. Ducks and geese are what they were hunting for. The best time for that’s early in the morning, so they decided they’d camp out the night before, to be ready.
They chose themselves a good place. They set up their tent. They collected some sticks to make a fire. They’d have started to cook their supper, only they realized they’d left their matches on the table at home. They could see a farmhouse not so very far off in the distance.
“I reckon the farmer will have some matches he could give us,” the oldest brother said.
He started toward the farmhouse as fast as he could run. The farmer was in the yard. He was seeing to his pigs.