Scottish Traditional Tales

by A. J. Bruford

  So he pairtit the heather an he oagit in . . . amang it to see if he could find an retrieve his brüni. But when he oapen’t up the heather, he cam upon a graet big gully o a holl leadin into the hill, an he oagit into this gully, and the farther he cam in, the bigger the gully turn’t. And finally he laundit in atil a graet big cave, and they were nobody in i the cave aless a graet big owld wife, an he noaticed ’at shö wis blinnd an couldna see him.

  So he güd some wey aboot the cave an he hoided him to see what wis goin to go on yondroo. An shö wis preparin eenormious diet o maet ipae the table. An he wätched all this moves o hirs, and efter a while he haerd a graet skraufling in yon same wey ’at he wis come in, an the first ’at appear’t in i the cave was a giant, an he was come back fae his day’s hontin cairryin all his booty. An he set doon his booty an he set him in to the table and he stairted to aet upon his denner. But all the time ’at he was aetin he was aye liftin his heid an snoffin aroont the cave, and then aut the latest he says,

  ‘Fee faw fam,

  I feel the smell o an earthly man,

  But be he livin or be he deid

  I’se hae his heid wi my sopper breid!’

  But he güd on wi his denner until he was feenished, an when he was feenished his denner he rase op an he startit to search the cave, an he fand the boy.

  An he took him oot an exaemined him, but he t’owt that he wisna warth t’ aet that nyht. An he tell’t the wife ’at shö wis to take the boy an binnd him to the stoop o the mill, an shö wis to feed him op wi milk an meal until the boy’s wrist turned as big as whit his peerie finger wis, and then he wid be fit fir aetin. So day efter day the wife fed ipae the boy, an the giant älways güd oot till his hontin. But occasionally the giant exaemin’t the boy to see what wey his condeetion was gettin on, an wän moarnin he pronounced ’at the boy would be fit fir aetin that nyht.

  So when the giant was gone the owld wife got on a graet caudereen of wäter upon a huge fire, an efter a while shö said to the boy ’at he was bidden to com an clim op ipae her shooder to see if this wäter wis boilin. But the boy, although he wisna certain, he hed his suspeecions o what was goin to tak place, an he said that he kent naething aboot whether wäter was boilin or no, an although shö couldna see, shö would . . . hae mair sense aboot that as him, and the best ’at shö could do was to clim op ipae his shooder. And so, to allay his suspeecions shö fell in wi yon plän, and he croopled him doon, an shö climmed op ipae his shooder to see whadder the waater wis boilin or no. An didn’t the boy plomp her in i this caudereen o boilin wäter? An he boiled upon her an better boiled upon her till he t’owt ’at the giant would be comin hom, and then he laid her op ipo the table. An he lookit aroont the cave, an he fand twa ’r three peerie stons an he oagit up ipo some ledge op i the röf o the cave.

  An efter a while the giant cam in, an he set him doon to the table, an he startit t’ aet oot o the owld wife. An he ett, but every noo an ageen he was ay sayin, ‘Tyoch, tyoch, tyoch!’ But finally he feenished this denner, an he was kind o exhaustit, pairtly be what he was aeten and pairtly be . . . his day’s hontin. An he drew this chair to the table and he laid back ower his heid, and he fell soond asleep, an he startit to snore an his mooth fell oapen. And the boy oot o the röf o the cave, he slippit doon yon peerie stons, and they güd ryht in the giant’s t’rot an they shoakit him an he died.

  An when the boy wis awaur ’at the giant was deid, he cam doon oot o his hoidie-holl i the röf o the cave, and he gaidered op the best o the giant’s gold an silver an booty ’at he wis collected, an he made hom til his owen fokk wi hit. An needless to say they all lived in plenty and happiness ever efter!

  5 Jimmy MacPhee

  THE WEE BIRD

  THE STORY’S ABOUT A little girl. It was one fine day, her mother sent her for a joog of milk to the dairy. So she says, ‘Can I take ma skippin-rope with me?’

  Her mother was awful bad, says, ‘No, ye can’t,’ she says.

  ‘But I won’t spill the milk, Mummy, I promise.’

  ‘Well,’ her mother says, ‘ye can take the skippin-rope, but if ye spill the milk, I’ll kill you.’

  So the little girl takes the skippin-rope, an on the way goin, she’s skippin with it, an she gits the milk, an she’s skippin away, comin back, the milk in the jug, an the jug falls an breaks, so she looks fir anither jug. So this kind old lady comes along, says, ‘I’ve got a jug, jist the neighbour of the one you broke.’ She gies it to the little girl, an the little girl goes back fir more milk. So when she goes back fir more milk, she doesn’t skip on the way comin home, she folds the rope up an then carries it in her hand.

  When she comes home, her mummy says, ‘Well, did ye get the milk?’

  She says, ‘Yes, Mummy.’

  She says, ‘Let me see the jug,’ an she looked at the jug, she says, ‘This isn’t my jug.’ She says, ‘This is a different jug.’

  She says, ‘No, it’s no, Mummy,’ she says, ‘that’s the same jug as ye give me.’

  She says, ‘No, it’s not. It’s a different jug,’ she says. ‘My jug had a blue stripe on the top. This one has a red.’

  So her mummy killed her, an baked her in a pie. But then her father comes in. He asked where the little girl wes, an the woman said, ‘She’ll likely be out playin.’

  Says, ‘Well, hurry up an shout her for her dinner.’

  She says, ‘Ach! Let the child play.’ So she gives the man his dinner, an when he eats hauf-way through the pie, he sees this finger in it, an it had a little silver ring on it, an he looks at it an says, ‘Why! This is my daughter’s ring,’ he says. ‘What did ye do to her?’

  She says, ‘Well, I told her that if she broke my jug, I wad kill her, so I’ve killed her.’

  ‘Now,’ he says, ‘look at what ye’ve went an done.’ Says, ‘I’ve a good mind to kill you.’ Says, ‘No,’ he says, ‘I’ll let ye live.’

  The two sons cam in an they were lookin fir thir sister, an the father told them whit had happened. So they startit to cry.

  But then, Christmas came, an this wee little bird wes always peeping through the window. So when the boys put crumbs an things out to the window, the little bird ett it. Bit then it wes Christmas night, time fir to get the presents, then a voice cam doon the chimney: ‘Brother, brother, look up, look up, look up an see what I’ve got.’ So when the brother looked up, she dropped down a bagful of toys and sweets.

  Then she said it again, an the other brother looked up, an she dropped don anither bag full of toys an sweets.

  Then she says, ‘Father, father, look up, look up, an see what I’ve got.’ So when the father looked up, she dropped the father a new suit an a letter, an on the envelope it said, ‘Don’t open this letter until two hours after Christmas night.’

  So she shouted, ‘Mother, mother, look up, look up an see what I’ve got,’ an when the mother looked up, she dropped a stone, an hit the mother on the head. Killed her.

  So when the two hours came, the father opened up the letter, an he read it, he says, ‘Dear Father, this is your little daughter. The spell is broken. Once I have killed my mother, I shall come back to you on New Year’s Eve.’

  So New Year’s Eve come, an they’re waitin an waitin, waitin fir the daughter to come. Bit she didn’t come, an then, three minutes before midnight, a knock came on the window. They open’t the window, the little bird came in, says, ‘I’m home, Father.’

  The father says, ‘Why!’ he says, ‘You’re the little bird now!’

  She says, ‘I know, but if you take my mother’s ring pinkie, pinkie of the right hand,’ she says, ‘I’ll come back tae a girl.’

  So he goes away to where the mother was buried an takes the right pinkie, where still the ring wes, the same as on her. He took it, an the little girl changed back from a bird into a girl. When she took the ring, she says, ‘My mother weren’t really bad, it wes jist that the Devil was inside her,’ she says, ‘bit now that she’s gone,’ she says, ‘she’ll be in Heaven.’ An she took the
ring that wes on her own pinkie, she put the two in a box, an they all lived happily iver after.

  6 Jeannie Durie

  LIVER AND LIGHTS

  ONCE UPON A TIME there was a miller, and one night after he and his wife had gone to bed, his wife took an awfu greening for liver and lights, and she would not be content till her husband got up and went to the town, a little way off, to buy some.

  The miller was very unwilling to go for he was warm and comfortable in bed and it was still dark and very cold outside, but still as he was a good-natured man and liked to please his wife he set out. ‘It is so dark and so early in the morning that I shall have to wait a long time before the shops are open in the town, besides the long way I shall have to tramp: I’ll just go in here and see if I can’t get liver and lights nearer home.’ So he went into the churchyard, and he howkit up a dead body from a newly made grave, and cut out the liver and lights from the poor corpse and carried them home to his wife, and she not knowing where they came from, and having a greening upon her, she boilt them and she eated them, and was never a bit the wiser, while as for the miller you may be sure he held his tongue.

  One night soon after, however, when it was dark, the miller went out to grind some corn and his wife was left alone in the house, and bye and bye she heard something come to the door, and then she saw the something come thrawing through the keyhole and it came up to her and said: ‘Is Mungo at hame?’

  ‘No,’ said she, ‘he’s at the mill grinding the corn and he winna be back till it’s a’ ground!’

  Then she looked at ‘It’ and said: ‘What wye’s yere e’en sae how?’

  And ‘It’ answered: ‘Because the worms have howkit them oot ere now.’

  Then she said: ‘And what wye’s yere feet sae braid?’

  And ‘It’ answered: ‘Because I’ve traivelled, mair than e’er I rade!’

  And then she looked at ‘It’ again and said: ‘What wye’s yere puddens trailing oot ahint ye?’

  And then with a terrible shriek ‘It’ sprang on her crying: ‘Auch ye thief, ye’ve ate the wyte o’t,’ and just tore her to pieces.

  FORTUNE TALES

  7 Jeannie Robertson

  SILLY JACK AND THE LORD’S DAUGHTER

  THIS STORY THAT I’M goin to tell you, Isaac, is the story that my grandfather used to tell me an all the rest o the bairns aroon the fireside on a lang simmer’s nicht to keep us quiet and to pass the time by. My grandfather’s name was William Stewart, and he died about sixteen years ago.

  Now, this story that I’m to tell you is about the old wumman that lived on the other side of [? Kinnevie] Hill and had the three sons. She’d one called James, John and Silly Jack. Well, but we’ll start the story . . .

  One son wes called James, John and Jack. Of course Jack wes supposed to be silly, and he wes the youngest of the family. But they were very poor and very hard up, and had very little to eat at times.

  So one mornin James says til his mother, he says, ‘Mother,’ he says, ‘bake me a bannock,’ he says, ‘and rost me a collop,’ he says, ‘I’m off to push ma fortune.’

  She says, ‘Well,’ she says, ‘will I bake you a big bannock with a curse, or a wee bannock wi a blessin?’

  He says, ‘Ach,’ he says, ‘mither,’ he says, ‘bake me a big bannock,’ he says, ‘wi a curse.’ (Course he wes real greedy.) But whatever, his mither bakit him the bannock wi the curse; so she gave it til him, so the next day he went off to push his fortune.

  So anyway an another, when he goes away, she says, ‘Curse ye, curse ye, wherever ye go!’ (Ye see? He jist took too much fae them and left them real hungry.) Whatever, he goes on the rodd and on the rodd, anyway or another with rests fir the wee birds but none for poor James. But he walks and walks and walks till he’s tired an weariet an very, very thristy. So he sits down beside a nice little green wal fir tae take a bit of his bannock an a bit of his collop, and . . . he knew thit when he wes sittin at this wal he wad get a rest, he wad also get a drink. (Ye see? Out of this fresh spring wal.)

  So he’s eatin the bannock an he’s eatin the collop, an suddenly up jumps a little man, an he said to James, he said, ‘James, wad ye give me the crumbs,’ he says, ‘that faas fae yir mooth?’

  So he said, ‘Get oot o ma road,’ he says, ‘A havenae got enough for masel,’ he says. ‘Ah need aa ma crumbs to masel. A’ve nane to spare tae you.’ So he wouldnae gie the wee mannie the crumbs that fell fae his mooth.

  Whatever, he wes finished, an when he geed to take the drink out o the wal, which was a bonny great spring-wal before that, he discovert, insteid of the bonny fresh water that wes in it, it wes aa full of puddocks’ spewins. (Ye see?) So he couldnae drink it. So he: wes chokin off fir a drink.

  So he gets up and he goes on the rodd again. So he traivels and traivels fir days, and finally he come til a big castel. So . . . When he came to the castel he went to the front door, an he askit if they could give him a job to do, or any work round about the place. So when the fitman went in to see . . . this great rich lord, he said that there wes a man at the front door an he wantit to see if he could give him a job, that he wad do anything.

  So he said, ‘Yes,’ he says, ‘fetch him in,’ he says. So of course the fitman, he took him in, and he says, ‘Yes,’ he says, ‘A’ll give ye a job,’ he says, ‘I have three tasks that I want done.’ He said, ‘Could you do this three tasks fir me?’ (Ye see?)

  So he says, ‘Well, I dinnae ken,’ he says, ‘bit A’ll try.’

  ‘Well,’ he says, ‘in,’ he says, ‘that wuid,’ he says, ‘a mile or two from here,’ he says . . . ‘lives a giant,’ he says, ‘the giant with the three heads. And,’ he says, ‘if you can kill that giant fir me,’ he says, ‘that’ll be one of yir tasks. But,’ he says, ‘if you can do the three tasks,’ he says, ‘A’ll give you my daughter to marry,’ he says, ‘which is very beautiful, an a lovely caste! tae yirself,’ he says, ‘an three bushels of gold.’

  Well, James, he stays at the castel all night and he feeds on the best, an had a good feather bed to lie down upon, an has the best of everything an the best of attention. So in the mornin he gits up an he goes away, gets a nice horse an he’s mountit on his horse now, an a good sword an everything, an he goes to kill the giant with the three heads.

  So, when he comes to this wuid, he wes jist nearin the place where the giant lived, when suddenly there were three roars just like three roars of thunder, an the very trees in this forest shook wi the roars that this giant gied. (Ye see.) And he said, the giant says,

  ‘Vee, vye, vum!

  I feel the smell of an English man.

  Let him be dead, or let him be alive,

  A’ll crunge his bonns to meal.’

  Poor James, he wes terrified to death when he hears this. But whatever, he faces up to the giant and he fought the giant bravely, but James was not a match for this giant, and the giant killed poor James, instead of James killin him. (Ye see.) So when the great lord found out that James wes killed, he ordert his head to be cut off, and he put it on the gate of his castel.

  Now a year an a day passes. So John says til his mother, he says, ‘Mother, it’s a year and a day since ma brother James went away,’ he says. So he says, ‘I think I’ll go an push my fortune too,’ he says, ‘as thir not enough to eat here,’ he says, ‘for the three of us. So I’ll go away.’ So, like James, John wes greedy too. So he says til his mither, he says, ‘Bake me a bannock,’ he says; ‘an rost me a collop.’

  She says, ‘Will I bake you a big bannock with a curse, or a wee bannockie wi a blessin?’

  ‘Ach,’ he says, ‘bake me the big bannock,’ he says, ‘wi the curse.’

  So the next day he goes away to push his fortune too. So he comes to this wee wallie. It wes full o the bonny spring waater. An he sits down to eat a bit of his bannock an a bit of his collop.

  So, just as he wes sittin eatin it, up jumps the wee hairy mannie again – little mannock – and he says, ‘Oh,’ he says, ‘John,’ he says, ‘
gie me the crumbs,’ he says, ‘thit faas fae yir mooth.’

  ‘Get oot o ma road,’ he says, ‘A’m sairly needin the crumbs tae masel,’ he says, ‘it’s nae fir aa ’at A hev,’ he says, ‘and A need every crumb tae masel.’ So he couldnae spare the wee mannie a crumb either.

  But, when he ett his bit bannock and ett his collop, when he geed tae take a drink, the wee wallie wes full of puddocks’ spewins tae – he couldnae get a drink. So he had to get up an git on the road too, frichtit, weary an tired.

  So he traivels fir days an days upon the rodd, couldnae get work at nothing, but finally he lands at this great lord’s castel, an he goes tae the front door, an he asks for somethin tae do. So the fitman said – told the lord, and he said, ‘Fetch him in.’ So he fetches in John. So John asked him if he could give him any work or anything to do. So he says, ‘Yes,’ he says, ‘there’s three tasks that I would like done. An if you can do this three tasks,’ he says, ‘I’ll give ye my beautiful daughter to marry, an three bushels of gold, and a castel fir yerself to live in.’

  So John was game to try. So he told him the first task ’at had to be done was to kill this giant wi the three heids ’at lived intae the forest a mile or two away from the castel.