~Nursery Rhyme~
When Pigs Fly
It is unwise to be hasty, especially in the habit of doing good deeds, as this story will show. There once was a man in brown, his name has been lost to song and story so we must know him only based upon the color of his garb on one particular day. We do not know from whence he came or whither he was going, but on this bright morning he was passing by a neat little farmyard when there arose such an outcry that he was forced to stop and give heed to what remarkable or dreadful event had just ensued. He was quite astonished, giving a little cry of surprise himself, to see a well grown pig suddenly take wing, though it had no such appendage, but it was seemingly intent on soaring through the vast pastures of the sky. Not even pausing to consider what he was doing or how it might utterly alter his destiny, he climbed upon the stone fence along the road and leapt at the flying hog as it swept past. Being rather tall and athletic, he was just able to grasp the hock of the terrified swine, screaming for all it was worth at this uncanny turn of events. The pair crashed to earth and the farmer and his daughter came running over in relief and wonder, both trying to talk at once.
The farmer took hold of the hog, which still seemed intent on zipping off on another aerial adventure, and babbled something about the creature having been sold to a great and terrible man who would take the beast’s disappearance amiss. He gratefully took the pig from the stranger, only to gape in astonishment as the man himself went flying out of sight the moment he lost his grip on the pig. The farmer, the pig, and the girl all exchanged a mystified look and muttered darkly about mischievous sorcerers, but quickly returned to their interrupted chores.
The now airborne man, however, could not simply return to his interrupted walk as he was completely at the mercy of whomever had apparently summoned the pig by this unnatural means. He shuddered to think what such a powerful magician would think when a man landed on the doorstep rather than the anticipated hog. But there was little he could do until that fateful moment so he contented himself in enjoying the thrill of the ride and the charming country over which he flew. As the sun reached its noon peak, a great and hideous castle loomed before him and a shudder shook his body, he knew thither lay his doom. He landed quite safely in some sort of kitchen yard enclosed by high stonewalls. A short, bearded fellow in rather rough clothes stood waiting for him, or rather the pig, and did not seem at all surprised to see a man in the beast’s place. He only shook his head and said gruffly, “the Ogre will want to see you.”
“Ogre?” gasped the man in brown, shakily trying his legs.
“Aye,” said the bearded man, “he won’t be happy you’ve interfered with his dinner.”
“Dinner?” swallowed the man.
“Aye,” said the fellow, “he has a grand feast planned for this very night, invited the entire populous hereabouts and that pig was a vital part of the entertainment. He won’t be pleased. Come.” The man sighed but followed his host as one condemned to the gallows might the hangman.
They traversed many a grim and murky corridor before they came to a dim, dank throne room in which a monstrous creature rather laired than sat. The servant made his bows and the hideous creature rumbled, “who dares disturb me?”
The servant said, “I was expecting a pig Sire, one that was legally bought and paid for. This fellow showed up instead, no doubt up to some mischief or other.”
The monster thundered, “stolen my pig has he? Trying to embarrass me in front of the whole neighborhood no doubt? Well knave? What have you to say for yourself?”
The man quivered, “please sir, it was all a mistake, a good intentioned mistake. I saw the pig go flying off and the farmer’s concern so I thought to intercede. The pig remains with the farmer and I find myself here in its stead. I meant no harm.”
The beast roared, “well whatever you intended, harm is what you did! Irrevocable harm! I will be a laughingstock! My banquet is ruined! What have you to say to that?”
The man bowed deeply in resignation then replied, “it appears I have erred and greatly offended you, Sire, if there is any recompense I can make, let it be so.”
Malice and cruelty filled the monster’s laughing reply, “what if I ordered that you take the place of the hog at tonight’s feast?”
The man shuddered but said quietly, “I would say that is a grim fate indeed but I am at your mercy.”
The ogre spat, “bah, I have no such failing as mercy, but just to spare myself from accusations of injustice I will offer you a chance of escape. Take your bow and go into the surrounding woods and fields, if you can bring back another creature in your stead, you shall go free, else you know your fate. You have one hour! Be gone!”
The man shuddered again but hastened after the grim servant who led him out into the bright and cheerful sunlight, which only made his recent audience seem even more a nightmare. He followed silently out into the fields about the castle and into the woods thereabouts, taking a bow and quiver of arrows from the silent servant. Finally realizing himself free, he thought for a moment of running away but the monster would certainly be angered and insulted enough to pursue and put him to an even worse end than that which already awaited him. He could not strike out against the servant, he was only doing his master’s bidding; he was not the true villain. He sighed heavily, nocked an arrow, and trudged wearily forwards, looking for signs of an acceptable replacement. The servant followed silently after.
His wandering soon brought him out into a broad meadow where he was surprised to find a small party of richly clad young men and their servants busy with several deer and a young boar, apparently having had some success in their hunting. Said the man eagerly, “sirs, could I have but the least of your quarry? It would truly spare my life!”
The young lords looked over the ragged fellow and his aged companion, exchanged a scornful look, and then laughed contemptuously. One saying, “be gone beggar! You will have none of our spoil, go fetch your own. We care little for the plight of such wretches who undoubtedly brought their sorrow rightfully upon their own heads.”
“But...!” cried the man but the servants left their tasks and drove the strangers away with many and vicious blows. The dejected man fled into the woods and nearly tripped over an old beggar, deaf and lame. The poor wretch flinched back in terror and the man quickly tried to reassure him that there was naught to fear.
Said the servant thoughtfully, “my master bid you bring back a replacement, not specifying who or what. This poor wretch might suffice.”
The man gave him an incredulous look but said only, “it was my own folly that got me into this mess and I alone shall pay what price I must. This poor fellow has certainly suffered enough in life, let me not add to his sorrows.” He tossed the fellow all the coins he had on his person, ruefully thinking he no longer had a need for them. They turned away from the gratefully smiling beggar and continued on, the precious minutes nearly spent. They came again into a wide meadow, still having seen no sign of living game, but there were sheep aplenty grazing in that pleasant field.
A shepherdess approached with a curious smile on her beautiful young face and inquired, “what brings you to this forgotten field good sirs?”
The man asked in desperate hope, “can I have but the least of your sheep miss? Anything old or sick or lame will do; I will pay whatever price I must, for my very life depends upon it!”
A sneer marred her lovely face as she said scornfully, “thieves, no doubt! Be gone ere I fetch my father and the dogs! I will have no dealings with such scoundrels!”
“It is time to return,” said the servant quietly, “unless you can make other arrangements quickly. The girl is quite alone; her sheep are vulnerable at the moment.”
The girl squawked in indignation and the man said, turning back towards the grim castle, “I will not stoop to theft. Let us be done with this farce, I have failed and will face my doom.” The servant nodded grimly and led the man back to th
e hulking, ugly castle. The girl watched them go with a spiteful frown.
They returned to the kitchen courtyard and the man set his bow against one of the walls. As he turned back towards the servant, he saw the door through which they had come was wide open and the servant stood aside, saying, “flee if you will, here is your last chance.”
The man shook his head, “what grim fate would await you should your master find me gone? I will not imperil your life to save my own. Let things be as they must.”
The servant closed the door with dreadful finality and said, “then it is time you were dressed for dinner.” The man nodded glumly and followed the servant down a grim stair into the dank depths of the castle.
It was a sumptuous feast and the beautiful castle was elaborately decorated for the occasion. All of the locals had been invited, even the deaf beggar, and many had come from distant lands to attend, for the aging and childless King was this night to select his heir from amongst them. There was much excited chatter and barely contained eagerness as each delightful course was finished, only to be followed by one even better. At last, when no one could possibly eat another bite or contain their curiosity any longer, a short, bearded herald in bright livery announced that the moment of decision had come. The richly robed King stood forth, leaning heavily on his cane, he said, “here then is my heir, he has proved himself time and again to be a man of the greatest courage and integrity.”
All eyes turned to the back of the room towards which the King had grandly gestured, and a man came forth, though no longer clad all in brown, but certainly no less the hero of this strange tale. The noble huntsmen and the shepherdess did not recognize him, but the lame beggar began to clap for all he was worth and the others soon joined him, for here was their new King. There had never been an ogre and the great castle was far from dank and hideous, all had been a ruse to test the heart of the man in brown. The short, bearded fellow was glad indeed to dress him in scarlet and purple. And to think it had all started with a flying pig.
Over the Hills and Far Away Page 9