FARMER WEATHERSKY

FARMER WEATHERSKY

Once on a time there was a man and his wife, who had an only son, and his name

was Jack. The old dame thought it high time for her son to go out into the

world to learn a trade, and bade her husband be off with him.

“But all you do”, she said, “mind you bind him to some one

who can teach him to be master above all masters”; and with that she put

some food and a roll of tobacco into a bag, and packed them off.

Well! they went to many masters; but one and all said they could make the lad

as good as themselves, but better they couldn’t make him. So when the man

came home again to his wife with that answer, she said:

“I don’t care what you make of him; but this I say and stick to,

you must bind him to some one where he can learn to be master above all

masters”; and with that she packed up more food and another roll of

tobacco, and father and son had to be off again.

Now when they had walked a while they got upon the ice, and there they met a

man who came whisking along in a sledge, and drove a black horse.

“Whither away?” said the man.

“Well!” said the father, “I’m going to bind my son to

some one who is good to teach him a trade; but my old dame comes of such fine

folk, she will have him taught to be master above all masters.”

“Well met then”, said the driver; “I’m just the man for

your money, for I’m looking out for such an apprentice. Up with you

behind!” he added to the lad, and whisk! off they went, both of them, and

sledge and horse, right up into the air.

“Nay, nay!” cried the lad’s father, “you haven’t

told me your name, nor where you live.”

“Oh!” said the master, “I’m at home alike north and

south, and east and west, and my name’s Farmer Weathersky . In a

year and a day you may come here again, and then I’ll tell you if I like

him.” So away they went through the air, and were soon out of sight.

So when the man got home, his old dame asked what had become of her son.

“Well”, said the man, “Heaven knows, I’m sure I

don’t. They went up aloft”; and so he told her what had happened.

But when the old dame heard that her husband couldn’t tell at all when

her son’s apprenticeship would be out, nor whither he had gone, she

packed him off again, and gave him another bag of food and another roll of

tobacco.

So, when he had walked a bit, he came to a great wood, which stretched on and

on all day as he walked through it. When it got dark he saw a great light, and

he went towards it. After a long, long time he came to a little but under a

rock, and outside stood an old hag drawing water out of a well with her nose,

so long was it.

“Good evening, mother!” said the man.

“The same to you”, said the old hag. “It’s hundreds of

years since any one called me mother.”

“Can I have lodging here to-night?” asked the man.

“No! that you can’t”, said she.

But then the man pulled out his roll of tobacco, lighted his pipe, and gave the

old dame a whiff, and a pinch of snuff. Then she was so happy she began to

dance for joy, and the end was, she gave the man leave to stop the night.

So next morning he began to ask after Farmer Weathersky. “No! she never

heard tell of him, but she ruled over all the four-footed beasts; perhaps some

of them might know him.” So she played them all home with a pipe she had,

and asked them all, but there wasn’t one of them who knew anything about

Farmer Weathersky.

“Well!” said the old hag, “there are three sisters of us;

maybe one of the other two know where he lives. I’ll lend you my horse

and sledge, and then you’ll be at her house by night; but it’s at

least three hundred miles off, the nearest way.”

Then the man started off, and at night reached the house, and when he came

there, there stood another old hag before the door, drawing water out of the

well with her nose.

“Good evening, mother!” said the man.

“The same to you”, said she; “it’s hundreds of years

since any one called me mother.”

“Can I lodge here to-night?” asked the man.

“No!” said the old hag.

But he took out his roll of tobacco, lighted his pipe, and gave the old dame a

whiff, and a good pinch of snuff besides, on the back of her hand. Then she was

so happy that she began to jump and dance for joy, and so the man got leave to

stay the night. When that was over, he began to ask after Farmer Weathersky.

“No! she had never heard tell of him; but she ruled all the fish in the

sea; perhaps some of them might know something about him.” So she played

them all home with a pipe she had, and asked them, but there wasn’t one

of them who knew anything about Farmer Weathersky.

“Well, well!” said the old hag, “there’s one sister of

us left; maybe she knows something about him. She lives six hundred miles off,

but I’ll lend you my horse and sledge, and then you’ll get there by

nightfall.”

Then the man started off, and reached the house by nightfall, and there he

found another old hag who stood before the grate, and stirred the fire with her

nose, so long and tough it was.

“Good evening, mother!” said the man.

“The same to you”, said the old hag; “it’s hundreds of

years since any one called me mother.”

“Can I lodge here to-night?” asked the man.

“No”, said the old hag.

Then the man pulled out his roll of tobacco again, and lighted his pipe, and

gave the old hag such a pinch of snuff it covered the whole back of her hand.

Then she got so happy she began to dance for joy, and so the man got leave to

stay. But when the night was over, he began to ask after Farmer Weathersky. She

never heard tell of him she said; but she ruled over all the birds of the air,

and so she played them all home with a pipe she had, and when she had mustered

them all, the Eagle was missing. But a little while after he came flying home,

and when she asked him, he said he had just come straight from Farmer

Weathersky. Then the old hag said he must guide the man thither; but the eagle

said he must have something to eat first, and besides he must rest till the

next day; he was so tired with flying that long way, he could scarce rise from

the earth.

So when he had eaten his fill and taken a good rest, the old hag pulled a

feather out of the Eagle’s tail, and put the man there in its stead; so

the Eagle flew off with the man, and flew, and flew, but they didn’t

reach Farmer Weathersky’s house before midnight.

So when they got there, the Eagle said

“There are heaps of dead bodies lying about outside but you mustn’t

mind them. Inside the house every man Jack of them are so sound asleep,

“t will be hard work to wake them; but you must go straight to the table

drawer, and take out of it three crumbs of bread, and when you hear some one

snoring loud, pull three feathers out of his head; he won’t wake for all

that.”

So the man did as he was told, and after he had taken the crumbs of bread, he

pulled out the first feather.

“OOF!” growled Farmer Weathersky, for it was he who snored.

So the man pulled out another feather.

“OOF!” he growled again.

But when he pulled out the third, Farmer Weathersky roared so, the man thought

roof and wall would have flown asunder, but for all that the snorer slept on.

After that the Eagle told him what he was to do. He went to the yard, and there

at the stable-door he stumbled against a big gray stone, and that he lifted up;

underneath it lay three chips of wood, and those he picked up too; then he

knocked at the stable-door, and it opened of itself. Then he threw down the

three crumbs of bread, and a hare came and ate them up; that hare he caught and

kept. After that the Eagle bade him pull three feathers out of his tail, and

put the hare, the stone, the chips, and himself there instead, and then he

would fly away home with them all.

So when the Eagle had flown a long way, he lighted on a rock to rest.

“Do you see anything?” it asked.

“Yes”, said the man, “I see a flock of crows coming flying

after us.”

“We’d better be off again, then”, said the Eagle, who flew

away.

After a while it asked again:

“Do you see anything now?”

“Yes”, said the man; “now the crows are close behind

us.”

“Drop now the three feathers you pulled out of his head, said the Eagle.

Well, the man dropped the feathers, and as soon as ever he dropped them they

became a flock of ravens which drove the crows home again. Then the Eagle flew

on far away with the man, and at last it lighted on another stone to rest.

“Do you see anything?” it said.

“I’m not sure”, said the man; “I fancy I see something

coming far far away”.

“We’d better get on then”, said the Eagle; and after a while

it said again:

“Do you see anything?”

“Yes”, said the man, “now he’s close at our

heels.”

“Now, you must let fall the chips of wood which you took from under the

gray stone at the stable door”, said the Eagle.

Yes! the man let them fall, and they grew at once up into tall thick wood, so

that Farmer Weathersky had to go back home to fetch an axe to hew his way

through. While he did this, the Eagle flew ever so far, but when it got tired,

it lighted on a fir to rest.

“Do you see anything?” it said.

“Well! I’m not sure”, said the man; “but I fancy I

catch a glimpse of something far away.”

“We’d best be off then”, said the Eagle; and off it flew as

fast as it could. After a while it said:

“Do you see anything now?”

“Yes! now he’s close behind us”, said the man.

“Now, you must drop the big stone you lifted up at the stable

door”, said the Eagle.

The man did so, and as it fell it became a great high mountain, which Farmer

Weathersky had to break his way through. When he had got half through the

mountain, he tripped and broke one of his legs, and so he had to limp home

again and patch it up.

But while he was doing this, the Eagle flew away to the man’s house with

him and the hare, and as soon as they got home, the man went into the

churchyard and sprinkled Christian mould over the hare, and lo! it turned into

“Jack”, his son.

Well, you may fancy the old dame was glad to get her son again, but still she

wasn’t easy in her mind about his trade, and she wouldn’t rest till

he gave her a proof that he was “master above all masters”.

So when the fair came round, the lad changed himself into a bay horse, and told

his father to lead him to the fair. “Now, when any one comes”, he

said, “to buy me, you may ask a hundred dollars for me; but mind you

don’t forget to take the headstall off me; if you do, Farmer Weathersky

will keep me for ever, for he it is who will come to deal with you.”

So it turned out. Up came a horse-dealer, who had a great wish to deal for the

horse, and he gave a hundred dollars down for him; but when the bargain was

struck, and Jack’s father had pocketed the money, the horse-dealer wanted

to have the headstall. “Nay, nay!” said the man,

“there’s nothing about that in the bargain; and besides, you

can’t have the headstall, for I’ve other horses at home to bring to

town to-morrow.”

So each went his way; but they hadn’t gone far before Jack took his own

shape and ran away, and when his father got home, there sat Jack in the ingle.

Next day he turned himself into a brown horse, and told his father to drive him

to the fair.

“And when any one comes to buy me, you may ask two hundred dollars for

me—he’ll give that and treat you besides; but whatever you do, and

however much you drink, don’t forget to take the headstall off me, else

you’ll never set eyes on me again.”

So all happened as he had said; the man got two hundred dollars for the horse

and a glass of drink besides, and when the buyer and seller parted, it was as

much as he could do to remember to take off the headstall. But the buyer and

the horse hadn’t got far on the road before Jack took his own shape, and

when the man got home, there sat Jack in the ingle.

The third day, it was the same story over again: the lad turned himself into a

black horse, and told his father some one would come and bid three hundred

dollars for him, and fill his skin with meat and drink besides; but however

much he ate or drank, he was to mind and not forget to take the headstall off,

else he’d have to stay with Farmer Weathersky all his life long.

“No, no; I’ll not forget, never fear”, said the man.

So when he came to the fair, he got three hundred dollars for the horse, and as

it wasn’t to be a dry bargain, Farmer Weathersky made him drink so much

that he quite forgot to take the headstall off, and away went Farmer Weathersky

with the horse. Now when he had gone a little way, Farmer Weathersky thought he

would just stop and have another glass of brandy; so he put a barrel of red-hot

nails under his horse’s nose, and a sieve of oats under his tail, hung

the halter, upon a hook, and went into the inn. So the horse stood there and

stamped and pawed, and snorted and reared. Just then out came a lassie, who

thought it a shame to treat a horse so.

“Oh, poor beastie”, she said, “what a cruel master you must

have to treat you so”, and as she said this she pulled the halter off the

hook, so that the horse might turn round and taste the oats.

“I’M AFTER YOU”, roared Farmer Weathersky, who came rushing

out of the door.

But the horse had already shaken off the headstall, and jumped into a

duck-pond, where he turned himself into a tiny fish. In went Farmer Weathersky

after him, and turned himself into a great pike. Then Jack turned himself into

a dove, and Farmer Weathersky made himself into a hawk, and chased and struck

at the dove. But just then a Princess stood at the window of the palace and saw

this struggle.

“Ah! poor dove”, she cried, “if you only knew what I know,

you’d fly to me through this window.”

So the dove came flying in through the window, and turned itself into Jack

again, who told his own tale.

“Turn yourself into a gold ring, and put yourself on my finger”,

said the Princess.

“Nay, nay!” said Jack, “that’ll never do, for then

Farmer Weathersky will make the king sick, and then there’ll be no one

who can make him well again till Farmer Weathersky comes and cures him, and

then, for his fee, he’ll ask for that gold ring.”

“Then I’ll say I had it from my mother, and can’t part with

it”, said the Princess.

Well, Jack turned himself into a gold ring, and put himself on the

Princess’ finger, and so Farmer Weathersky couldn’t get at him. But

then followed what the lad had foretold; the king fell sick, and there

wasn’t a doctor in the kingdom who could cure him till Farmer Weathersky

came, and he asked for the ring off the Princess’ finger for his fee. So

the king sent a messenger to the Princess for the ring; but the Princess said

she wouldn’t part with it, her mother had left it her. When the king

heard that, he flew into a rage, and said he would have the ring, whoever left

it to her.

“Well”, said the Princess, “it’s no good being cross

about it. I can’t get it off, and if you must have the ring, you must

take my finger too.”

“If you’ll let me try, I’ll soon get the ring off”,

said Farmer Weathersky.

“No, thanks, I’ll try myself”, said the Princess, and flew

off to the grate and put ashes on her finger. Then the ring slipped off and was

lost among the ashes. So Farmer Weathersky turned himself into a cock, who

scratched and pecked after the ring in the grate, till he was up to the ears in

ashes. But while he was doing this, Jack turned himself into a fox, and bit off

the cock’s head; and so if the Evil One was in Farmer Weathersky, it is

all over with him now.

LORD PETER Once on a time there was a poor couple, and they had nothing in the world but

three sons. What the names the two elder had I can’t say, but the

youngest he was called Peter. So when their father and mother died, the sons

were to share what was left, but there was nothing but a porridge-pot, a

griddle, and a cat. The eldest, who was to have first choice, he took the pot; “for”,

said he, “whenever I lend the pot to any one to boil porridge, I can

always get leave to scrape it”. The second took the griddle; “for”, said he, “whenever I lend

it to any one, I’ll always get a morsel of dough to make a

bannock.” But the youngest, he had no choice left him; if he was to choose anything it

must be the cat. “Well!” said he, “if I lend the cat to any one I shan’t

get much by that; for if pussy gets a drop of milk, she’ll want it all

herself. Still, I’d best take her along with me; I shouldn’t like

her to go about here and starve.” So the brothers went out into the world to try their luck, and each took his

own way; but when the youngest had gorse a while, the cat said: “Now you shall have a good turn, because you wouldn’t let me stay

behind in the old cottage and starve. Now, I’m off to the wood to lay

hold of a fine fat head of game, and then you must go up to the king’s

palace that you see yonder, and say you are come with a little present for the

king; and when he asks who sends it, you must say, ‘Why, who should it be from

but Lord Peter.’” Well! Peter hadn’t waited long before back came the cat with a reindeer

from the wood; she had jumped up on the reindeer’s head, between his

horns, and said, “If you don’t go straight to the king’s

palace I’ll claw your eyes out.” So the reindeer had to go whether he liked it or no. And when Peter got to the palace he went into the kitchen with the deer, and

said: “Here I’m come with a little present for the king, if he

won’t despise it.” Then the King went out into the kitchen, and when he saw the fine plump

reindeer, he was very glad. “But, my dear friend”, he said, “who in the world is it that

sends me such a fine gift?” “Oh!” said Peter, “who should send it but Lord Peter.” “Lord Peter! Lord Peter!” said the King. “Pray tell me where

he lives”; for he thought it a shame not to know so great a man. But that

was just what the lad wouldn’t tell him; he daren’t do it, he said,

because his master had forbidden him. So the King gave him a good bit of money to drink his health, and bade him be

sure and say all kind of pretty things, and many thanks for the present to his

master when he got home. Next day the Cat went again into the wood, and jumped up on a red deer’s

head, and sat between his horns, and forced him to go to the palace. Then Peter

went again into the kitchen, and said he was come with a little present for the

King, if he would be pleased to take it. And the King was still more glad to

get the red deer than he had been to get the reindeer, and asked again who it

was that sent so fine a present. “Why, it’s Lord Peter, of course”, said the lad; but when the

King wanted to know where Lord Peter lived, he got the same answer as the day

before; and this day, too, he gave Peter a good lump of money to drink his

health with. The third day the Cat came with an elk. And so when Peter got into the palace

kitchen, and said he had a little present for the King, if he’d be

pleased to take it, the King came out at once into the kitchen; and when he saw

the grand big elk, he was so glad he scarce knew which leg to stand on; and

this day, too, he gave Peter many many more dollars—at least a hundred.

He wished now, once for all, to know where this Lord Peter lived, and asked and

asked about this thing and that, but the lad said he daren’t say, for his

master’s sake, who had strictly forbidden him to tell. “Well, then”, said the King, “beg Lord Peter to come and see

me.” Yes, the lad would take that message; but when Peter got out into the yard

again, and met the Cat, he said, “A pretty scrape you’ve got me into now, for here’s the King,

who wants me to come and see him, and you know I’ve nothing to go in but

these rags I stand and walk in.” “Oh, don’t be afraid about that”, said the Cat; “in

three days you shall have coach and horses, and fine clothes, so fine that the

gold falls from them, and then you may go and see the king very well. But mind,

whatever you see in the king’s palace, you must say you have far finer

and grander things of your own. Don’t forget that.” No, no, Peter would bear that in mind, never fear. So when three days were over, the Cat came with a coach and horses, and

clothes, and all that Peter wanted, and altogether it was as grand as anything

you ever set eyes on; so off he set, and the Cat ran alongside the coach. The

King met him well and graciously; but whatever the King offered him, and

whatever he showed him, Peter said, ’twas all very well, but he had far

finer and better things in his own house. The King seemed not quite to believe

this, but Peter stuck to what he said, and at last the King got so angry, he

couldn’t bear it any longer. “Now I’ll go home with you”, he said, “and see if it be

true what you’ve been telling me, that you have far finer and better

things of your own. But if you’ve been telling a pack of lies, Heaven

help you, that’s all I say.” “Now, you’ve got me into a fine scrape”, said Peter to the

Cat, “for here’s the King coming home with me; but my home,

that’s not so easy to find, I think.” “Oh! never mind”, said the Cat; “only do you drive after me

as I run before.” So off they set; first Peter, who drove after his Cat, and then the King and

all his court. But when they had driven a good bit, they came to a great flock of fine sheep,

that had wool so long it almost touched the ground. “If you’ll only say”, said the Cat to the Shepherd,

“this flock of sheep belongs to Lord Peter, when the King asks you,

I’ll give you this silver spoon”, which she had taken with her from

the King’s palace. Yes! he was willing enough to do that. So when the king came up, he said to the

lad who watched the sheep, “Well, I never saw so large and fine a flock of sheep in my life! Whose

is it? my little lad.” “Why”, said the lad, “whose should it be but Lord

Peter’s.” A little while after they came to a great, great herd of fine brindled kine,

who were all so sleek the sun shone from them. “If you’ll only say”, said the Cat to the neat-herd,

“this herd is Lord Peter’s, when the King asks you, I’ll give

you this silver ladle”; and the ladle too she had taken from the

King’s palace. “Yes! with all my heart”, said the neat-herd. So when the King came up, he was quite amazed at the fine fat herd, for such a

herd he had never seen before, and so he asked the neat-herd who owned those

brindled kine. “Why! who should own them but Lord Peter”, said the neat-herd. So they went on a little further, and came to a great, great drove of horses,

the finest you ever saw, six of each colour, bay, and black, and brown, and

chesnut. “If you’ll only say this drove of horses is Lord Peter’s when

the King asks you”, said the Cat, “I’ll give you this silver

stoop”; and the stoop too she had taken from the palace. Yes! the lad was willing enough; and so when the King came up, he was quite

amazed at the grand drove of horses, for the matches of such horses he had

never yet set eyes on, he said. So he asked the lad who watched them, whose all these blacks, and bays, and

browns, and chesnuts were? “Whose should they be”, said the lad, “but Lord

Peter’s.” So when they had gone a good bit farther, they came to a castle; first there

was a gate of tin, and next there was a gate of silver, and next a gate of

gold. The castle itself was of silver, and so dazzling white, that it quite

hurt one’s eyes to look at in the sunbeams which fell on it just as they

reached it. So they went into it, and the Cat told Peter to say this was his house. As for

the castle inside, it was far finer than it looked outside, for everything was

pure gold—chairs, and tables, and benches, and all. And when the King had

gone all over it, and seen everything high and low, he got quite shameful and

downcast. “Yes”, he said at last; “Lord Peter has everything far finer

than I have, there’s no gainsaying that”, and so he wanted to be

off home again. But Peter begged him to stay to supper, and the King stayed, but he was sour,

and surly the whole time. So as they sat at supper, back came the Troll who owned the castle, and gave

such a great knock at the door. “WHO’S THIS EATING MY MEAT AND DRINKING MY MEAD LIKE SWINE IN

HERE”, roared out the Troll. As soon as the Cat heard that, she ran down to the gate. “Stop a bit”, she said, “and I’ll tell you how the

farmer sets to work to get in his winter rye.” And so she told him such a long story about the winter rye. “First of all, you see, he ploughs his field, and then he dungs it, and

then he ploughs it again, and then he harrows it”; and so she went on

till the sun rose. “Oh, do look behind you, and there you’ll see such a lovely

lady”, said the Cat to the Troll. So the Troll turned round, and, of course, as soon as he saw the sun he burst. “Now all this is yours”, said the Cat to Lord Peter. “Now,

you must cut off my head; that’s all I ask for what I have done for

you.” “Nay, nay”, said Lord Peter, “I’ll never do any such

thing, that’s flat.” “If you don’t”, said the Cat,” see if I don’t

claw your eyes out.” Well! so Lord Peter had to do it, though it was sore against his will. He cut

off the Cat’s head, but there and then she became the loveliest Princess

you ever set eyes on, and Lord Peter fell in love with her at once. “Yes! all this greatness was mine first”, said the Princess,

“but a Troll bewitched me to be a Cat in your father’s and

mother’s cottage. Now you may do as you please, whether you take me as

your queen or not, for you are now king over all this realm.” Well, well; there was little doubt Lord Peter would be willing enough to have

her as his queen, and so there was a wedding that lasted eight whole days, and

a feast besides; and after it was over, I stayed no longer with Lord Peter and

his lovely queen, and so I can’t say anything more about them.