So Catskins she went and got that ring, and when she baked the cake she put the ring in it. She got it baked and made it real pretty with white icin’, and then the old woman she came and took it away from her.
“You ugly thing! Do you think you could go up there in your old cat-hides? I’ll take it to him myself.”
So she traipsed on up to the King’s house, and took the cake on in to that boy. His mother cut him a piece and that ring fell out on the plate.
“Why, look!” she says. “It’s a ring!”
And when she showed it to that boy he sat up, says, “Where did that ring come from?”
“Out of the cake.”
“Who baked it?”
“I did,” said the old woman. “I did!”
“No such thing!” the King’s son told her. “Whoever baked that cake you bring her here right now, or I’ll have your head cut off!” And he called for his clothes and started gettin’ up out the bed.
The old woman she left there scared to death, and she fetched Catskins back in a hurry.
Catskins stood there in the door and the King’s son looked at her, and then she smiled.
“You’re the very one!” he said; and he went to take her by the hand, but she turned and ran out again. She went and raised her box, and then she got in it—
“Rise and fly!
Not too high!”
And it rose up and took her back to the King’s place. She put on the first dress and came in the house.
The King’s son looked at her, says, “No—the other one.”
So she went and came back in with the second dress on.
“No—that’s not right yet.”
She went and put on her flower dress and when she came back in that time he went to her and took her hands and kissed her. “Will you marry me?”
“Yes,” Catskins told him.
So they got married, and they lived happy.
And some folks tell it that the King made that old woman put on the catskin dress and work in his kitchen the rest of her days.
A man had come to the door about the time the tale was well started. He rapped once and pushed the door open. “You kids come on home.” Several children got up.
“Stay a while, Harry,” said Tom. “Let Granny finish this tale for ’em.”
Harry had come in and found a seat.
“That tale,” said Tom, “is like Ashpet—one my wife knew.” And Tom Hunt kept on slicing and digging and flicking chips with his knife as he started telling his tale. The father who had come for his children made no move to go.
Ashpet
One time there was a woman had two daughters, and they kept a hired girl. They treated this girl mean. She was bound out to ’em, had to do all the hard work, little as she was. They wouldn’t buy her any pretty clothes or nothin’, made her sleep right up against the fireplace and the ashes got all over her, so they called her Ashpet.
Well, one day they were all fixin’ to go to church-meetin’. They never let Ashpet go anywhere. They knew she was prettier than the old woman’s two girls, and if anybody came to the house they always shoved Ashpet under a wash tub. That day, just when they were tryin’ to get fixed up to go to meetin’, their fire went out, so they had to borrow fire. Now there was an old witch-woman lived over the gap in the mountain. These rich folks, they wouldn’t have nothin’ to do with this old woman but they had to have fire so they sent the oldest one of the girls over there to borrow some fire. The oldest girl she went traipsin’ on over the gap. She thought herself so good she didn’t go in the house, just stuck her hand through a crack in the logs.
“I come after fire.”
“Come in and comb my hair and I’ll give ye some.”
“I’ll not put my pretty clean hands on your old cat-comb!”
“You’ll get no fire.”
The old woman she sent the next-oldest. She went a-swish-in’ up the hill and through the gap. She was so nice! She ran her hand through that crack.
“I want some fire.”
“Come in and comb my hair.”
“Me? Put my nice white hands on your old cat-comb?”
“Put off then. You’ll get no fire.”
Then the old woman hollered for Ashpet. And Ashpet she went on up through the gap, ran down the holler, and went right on in the house.
“Good evenin’, Auntie.”
“Good evenin’, Ashpet.”
‘“I want to borry a coal of fire, please, ma’m.”
“Comb my hair and you can have it.”
Ashpet combed her hair for her, and then the old woman gave her some fire: put it in an old dried toadstool.3
“You goin’ to meetin’, Ashpet?”
“Law, no! They never let me go anywhere at all. I got to wash the dishes and scour the pots. I’ll not get done till meet-in’s plumb over.”
“You want to go?”
“Why, yes, I’d like that the best in the world!”
“Time they all get good and gone, I’ll be up there to see you.”
Ashpet she ran on back over the mountain and built up the fires, got in wood and water, and went to milkin’ and feedin’. She had to hurry ’cause she had supper to cook, too. Then they eat supper, and Ashpet helped the two girls get fixed up, and fin’lly they all went on off to meetin’. When they were all out of sight down the road here came that old witch-woman a-hobblin’ through the gap with her stick. She walked in the house, went on out to the kitchen, says to Ashpet, says, “You just keep right still there by the door now.”
So Ashpet looked in the kitchen door; and the old woman set all the dishes on one end of the table and the dishpan on the other end and hit full of scaldin’ water. Then she knocked on the table, says:
“All dirty dishes stay off the shelf!
Get in the water, shake yourself!
Wash, dish! Wash!”
And the plates and platters and cups and saucers and bowls and knives and forks and spoons ran over and slipped through the hot water and rose up and shook themselves and hopped up on the shelves just as clean and dry as anybody’d have to do in an hour’s hard work. Then the old woman she opened the back door, says:
“Pots and skillets—handle and spout!
Get in the sand and scour out!
Scrub, pot! Scrub!”
And it was a sight in the world how every pot and pan and kettle and skillet went hoppin’ and straddlin’ out the door and rolled down to the creek and went to rubbin’ and scrapin’ in the sand and dippin’ in the water, and then they all came bumpin’ back in the house and settled down by the hearth-rock right where they belonged. Ashpet had an awful good time watchin’ all that. She nearly laughed herself to death.
Then the old woman reached in her apron pocket, took out a mouse, and an old piece of leather and a rawhide string, two scraps of shoe-leather, and an old piece of rag. She put the mouse down before the door, laid that chunk of leather on it, dropped that rawhide string over its head, says:
“Co-up, little mare!
Whoa now! Whoa!”
—and there stood the finest little pied-ed mare you ever saw: pretty new saddle and bridle on it, and it was just as gentle as a girl ’uld want. Then that old witch-woman she knocked that piece of rag around this way and that, laid it on the bed; took the two scraps of leather, knocked them up a time or two, set ’em under the bed, says, “Now, Ashpet, you shut your eyes and wish for the dress and slippers you want to wear to meetin’.”
Ashpet shut her eyes and wished and when she opened ’em there was a pretty red dress stretched out on the coverlet, and under the bed were the prettiest red slippers—the littlest ’uns you ever saw. Then Ashpet she washed herself and put on her red dress and slippers.
“Now,” says the old woman, “quick as meetin’ breaks, you get back here and hide your horse in the bresh, and hide your dress and slippers, and put on your old ashy clothes again.”
Ashpet went ridin’ on up to the church-house, and tied her horse and walked in the door.
Everybody saw her, but nobody knew who she was. Now the King’s son was there and he kept his eyes right on her. When meetin’ started breakin’ he followed Ashpet, and saw her get on her little mare and turn its head to go, so he jumped on his horse and took out after her. She paid no attention but he caught up with her directly, started talkin’ to her.
They rode on a piece, and then she eased off one of her slippers and kicked it in the bresh; rode on a little piece farther, says, “I’ve lost one of my slippers, sure’s the world! It must have dropped off in the road somewhere between here and the church-house.”
“I’ll get it for you,” he told her. “You wait here now.” And he turned his horse and went back. But time he was out of sight she galloped her little mare on in home, hid it in the woods, ran to the house and hid her dress and slipper, got her old ashy dress again and went to sweepin’ and dustin’.
That boy had a time findin’ her slipper but fin’lly he saw it there in the bresh, picked it up, and when he rode on back and found the girl gone he didn’t know what in the world to do.
Well, he took that little red slipper and went all over the country lookin’ for the one it would fit. Got down there where the old woman and the two girls lived at fin’lly; and when they saw him comin’ they grabbed Ashpet and run with her and stuck her under that washtub.
The King’s son came on in with the slipper, says, “This slipper came off the prettiest woman in the world, and the one it fits is the one I’ll marry.”
The oldest ’un she took the slipper and ran out behind the house; took a knife and trimmed her heel and her toes till she made it fit. The boy looked at her other foot and he got suspicious; and just about that time a little bird flew to the door and started singin’:
“Trim your heels, and trim your toes!
Under the tub the slipper goes!”
“What did you say, little bird?”
“Shoo!” says the old woman, and the bird flew off.
The King’s son he jerked the slipper off that girl and he saw how she’d trimmed her heel and her toes. So the next-oldest she grabbed up the slipper and ran out. She squeezed her foot in it, but she had to trim her heel and toes, too. Then that boy he looked at her foot and it was in the slipper all right but when he looked at her face he wasn’t satisfied at all; so he pulled the slipper off again, and then he noticed where she had been trimmin’ her heel and toes.
Then that little bird fluttered at the door again—
“Trim your heels, and trim your toes!
Under the tub the slipper goes!”
“SHOO!” hollered the old woman.
But the King’s son he watched the bird and it flew out in the yard and lit on that tub—
“Trim your heels, and trim your toes!
Under the tub the slipper goes!”
So the boy went out and lifted the tub and looked in under it, and there was Ashpet.
“What you doin’ under there?”
“They always put me under here.”
“Come on out”
“I’m too ragged and dirty.”
“You try this slipper on. Here!”
So Ashpet stuck out her foot and he put the slipper on it and it fitted perfect. Then she went and washed her face and put on her red dress and her other slipper; ran out in the bresh and got her horse, and she and the King’s son rode on off and got married.
Well, the two girls and the old woman they acted awful nice after the weddin’, went up to the King’s house several times and they always brought Ashpet somethin’. Then one day the girls told her about a fine place to go swimmin’, says, “Let’s go up there today and go in. Come on and go with us, Ashpet.”
So they took Ashpet up to the swimmin’ place and both the girls acted like they were goin’ in the water but they let Ashpet go in first. They knew that an Old Hairy Man lived in that hole of water; and when Ashpet went in, he got her. The two girls laughed and went on home.
The Old Hairy Man kept Ashpet in a cave in the bank over that deep water, and she couldn’t get away from him. There wasn’t any boat, and the water was swift and it licked right up to the mouth of the cave. Well, after Ashpet was there a day or so the Old Hairy Man got to braggin’ about how his hide was so thick there couldn’t no ball nor bullet hurt him.
“Can’t hurt ye nowhere?” Ashpet asked him.
“Nowhere,” he told her, “—except a little mole back of my left shoulder. If I was to get hit there it ’uld lay me out, cold.”
Now the King’s son had done raised an army to hunt for his wife, and they fin’lly came by that cave. Ashpet ran out and stood over that deep hole and they saw her.
“Shoot him in the back of his left shoulder!” she hollered to ’em. Then she ran and hid behind a big rock.
The men they got some boats and rowed across and shot in the mouth of the cave. Here came Old Hairy Man a-scrapin’ and a-gruntin’, and he went to grabbin’ the men out the boats and throwin’ ’em back across the river as fast as they landed, but they got more boats and landed on both sides of that cave. They kept on shootin’ but the bullets and balls just glanced off the Old Hairy Man’s hide, and he kept right on fightin’ and a-throwin’ the men every which-a-way. But fin’lly the King’s boy and some of his men got in behind him and they went to aimin’ back of his left shoulder until one ball happened to hit that mole—and that fixed him—knocked him out, cold.
So they took Ashpet and ran for life, rowed across in a hurry. Old Hairy Man he came to about the time they landed on the other side, and he went to jumpin’ up and down a-hollerin’, “You got my woman!”
Well, as soon as the King’s boy got Ashpet home safe, he went and arrested that old woman and her two girls, carried ’em down to that deep hole of water and threw ’em in. Says, “Here’s ye three women!”
And Old Hairy Man he came out and grabbed ’em and hauled ’em in his cave—and they’re down there yet, I reckon.
A girl spoke out from somewhere in the back of the room, “I know one—about a King, and his daughters.”
The child told the tale slowly, thinking ahead now and then before she spoke. I couldn’t see her, and it was as though the tale came out of the night.
Like Meat Loves Salt
One time there was a very old King and he had three daughters. And one day he asked ’em what would they like for him to buy ’em in town. The girls were plannin’ on goin’ to a dance that night so the first one she told him she wanted a dark-flashing green dress; the second one asked for a bright-flashing red dress; and then the youngest (the King loved her better’n the others) said that she wanted a dress that was solid white.
The old King got on his horse and went on to town and got the three dresses, and on the way back a bough of maple hit his hat. He reached up and broke it off; and when he looked at it, it was full of white roses. Well, he came on in home and got back on his throne and called his oldest girl. And when she came in he asked her, says, “How much do you love me?”
“Oh,” she says, “I love you more than life.”
So he put a white rose on her green dress and gave it to her, and she took it and went to get ready to go to the dance.
Then he called his next-oldest girl and asked her how much did she love him.
“Why,” she says, “I love you more than I can tell ye.”
So he put a white rose on her red dress and she took it and went on to get fixed up to go to that dance. Then he called his youngest girl and says, “Now you tell me—how much do you love your old daddy?”
She thought a minute then she told him, “I love you like meat loves salt.”
“Is that your answer?” he asked her, real mad-like.
“Yes,” she says, “I love you as much as my duty will let me, and that’s the dyin’ truth.”
That made him even madder, so he hid her dress, and then he locked her up in a high tower on the prairies. Never let her see anybody, except one old woman to get her water and cook for her.
; And she was sittin’ in the window one day combin’ her hair and lettin’ the tears fall—and the Duke of England rode by and looked up there and saw her. A grapevine ran up the tower right to the window; so the Duke of England he climbed up that vine and carried that girl down; took her across the ocean and married her.
Well, the two other girls had got married and gone off with their husbands, and the old King got lonesome, so one day he went to live with his oldest daughter. She greeted him well, but he hadn’t been there more’n a few days when she told him, says, “You’ll have to do without your servants. There’s not enough room here for ’em.” And she sent ’em off—all but two. So then the old King went to stay with his next-oldest daughter, and she fired his last two servants and put him in the stable to sleep. Then he knew that his two oldest daughters didn’t really love him, so he went on off by himself.
Then the two girls’ husbands, they started raisin’ war on the Duke of England, and fin’lly the Duke brought his army across the ocean; and they all started in fightin’. The youngest girl she had come with the Duke and they went out walkin’ in the country one day, and they found the old King a-wanderin’ around crazy. He’d done twisted himself a crown out of honeysuckle vines. And he didn’t know his youngest girl when she came up to him. She and the Duke took him with ’em, and they went on across the country, and directly they saw the two oldest girls caught in a thornbush and just a-screamin’.
Grandfather Tales Page 9