KATIE WOODENCLOAK

KATIE WOODENCLOAK

Once on a time there was a King who had become a widower. By his Queen he had

one daughter, who was so clever and lovely, there wasn’t a cleverer or

lovelier Princess in all the world. So the King went on a long time sorrowing

for the Queen, whom he had loved so much, but at last he got weary of living

alone, and married another Queen, who was a widow, and had, too, an only

daughter; but this daughter was just as bad and ugly as the other was kind, and

clever, and lovely, The stepmother and her daughter were jealous of the

Princess, because she was so lovely; but so long as the King was at home, they

daredn’t do her any harm, he was so fond of her.

Well, after a time, he fell into war with another King, and went out to battle

with his host, and then the stepmother thought she might do as she pleased; and

so she both starved and beat the Princess, and was after her in every hole and

corner of the house. At last she thought everything too good for her, and

turned her out to herd cattle. So there she went about with the cattle, and

herded them in the woods and on the fells. As for food, she got little or none,

and she grew thin and wan, and was always sobbing and sorrowful. Now in the

herd there was a great dun bull, which always kept himself so neat and sleek,

and often and often he came up to the Princess, and let her pat him. So one day

when she sat there, sad, and sobbing, and sorrowful, he came up to her and

asked her outright why she was always in such grief. She answered nothing, but

went on weeping.

“Ah!” said the Bull, “I know all about it quite well, though

you won’t tell me; you weep because the Queen is bad to you, and because

she is ready to starve you to death. But food you’ve no need to fret

about, for in my left ear lies a cloth, and when you take and spread it out,

you may have as many dishes as you please.”

So she did that, took the cloth and spread it out on the grass, and lo! it

served up the nicest dishes one could wish to have; there was wine too, and

mead, and sweet cake. Well, she soon got up her flesh again, and grew so plump,

and rosy, and white, that the Queen and her scrawny chip of a daughter turned

blue and yellow for spite. The Queen couldn’t at all make out how her

stepdaughter got to look so well on such bad fare, so she told one of her maids

to go after her in the wood, and watch and see how it all was, for she thought

some of the servants in the house must give her food. So the maid went after

her, and watched in the wood, and then she saw how the stepdaughter took the

cloth out of the Bull’s ear, and spread it out, and how it served up the

nicest dishes, which the stepdaughter ate and made good cheer over. All this

the maid told the Queen when she went home.

And now the King came home from war, and had won the fight against the other

king with whom he went out to battle. So there was great joy throughout the

palace, and no one was gladder than the King’s daughter. But the Queen

shammed sick, and took to her bed, and paid the doctor a great fee to get him

to say she could never be well again unless she had some of the Dun

Bull’s flesh to eat. Both the king’s daughter and the folk in the

palace asked the doctor if nothing else would help her, and prayed hard for the

Bull, for every one was fond of him, and they all said there wasn’t that

Bull’s match in all the land. But, no; he must and should be slaughtered,

nothing else would do. When the king’s daughter heard that, she got very

sorrowful, and went down into the byre to the Bull. There, too, he stood and

hung down his head, and looked so downcast that she began to weep over him.

“What are you weeping for?” asked the Bull.

So she told him how the King had come home again, and how the Queen had shammed

sick and got the doctor to say she could never be well and sound again unless

she got some of the Dun Bull’s flesh to eat, and so now he was to be

slaughtered.

“If they get me killed first”, said the Bull, “they’ll

soon take your life too. Now, if you’re of my mind, we’ll just

start off, and go away to-night.”

Well, the Princess thought it bad, you may be sure, to go and leave her father,

but she thought it still worse to be in the house with the Queen; and so she

gave her word to the Bull to come to him.

At night, when all had gone to bed, the Princess stole down to the byre to the

Bull, and so he took her on his back, and set off from the homestead as fast as

ever he could. And when the folk got up at cockcrow next morning to slaughter

the Bull, why, he was gone; and when the King got up and asked for his

daughter, she was gone too. He sent out messengers on all sides to hunt for

them, and gave them out in all the parish churches; but there was no one who

had caught a glimpse of them. Meanwhile, the Bull went through many lands with

the King’s daughter on his back, and so one day they came to a great

copper-wood, where both the trees, and branches, and leaves, and flowers, and

everything, were nothing but copper.

But before they went into the wood, the Bull said to the King’s daughter:

“Now, when we get into this wood, mind you take care not to touch even a

leaf of it, else it’s all over both with me and you, for here dwells a

Troll with three heads who owns this wood.”

No, bless her, she’d be sure to take care not to touch anything. Well,

she was very careful, and leant this way and that to miss the boughs, and put

them gently aside with her hands; but it was such a thick wood, ’twas

scarce possible to get through; and so, with all her pains, somehow or other

she tore off a leaf, which she held in her hand.

“AU! AU! what have you done now?” said the Bull;

“there’s nothing for it now but to fight for life or death; but

mind you keep the leaf safe.”

Soon after they got to the end of the wood, and a Troll with three heads came

running up:

“Who is this that touches my wood?” said the Troll.

“It’s just as much mine as yours”, said the Bull.

“Ah!” roared the Troll, “we’ll try a fall about

that.”

“As you choose”, said the Bull.

So they rushed at one another, and fought; and the Bull he butted, and gored,

and kicked with all his might and main; but the Troll gave him as good as he

brought, and it lasted the whole day before the Bull got the mastery; and then

he was so full of wounds, and so worn out, he could scarce lift a leg. Then

they were forced to stay there a day to rest, and then the Bull bade the

King’s daughter to take the horn of ointment which hung at the

Troll’s belt, and rub him with it. Then he came to himself again, and the

day after they trudged on again. So they travelled many, many days, until,

after a long long time, they came to a silver wood, where both the trees, and

branches, and leaves, and flowers, and everything, were silvern.

Before the Bull went into the wood, he said to the King’s daughter:

“Now, when we get into this wood, for heaven’s sake mind you take

good care; you mustn’t touch anything, and not pluck off so much as one

leaf, else it is all over both with me and you; for here is a Troll with six

heads who owns it, and him I don’t think I should be able to

master.”

“No”, said the King’s daughter; “I’ll take good

care and not touch anything you don’t wish me to touch.”

But when they got into the wood, it was so close and thick, they could scarce

get along. She was as careful as careful could be, and leant to this side and

that to miss the boughs, and put them on one side with her hands, but every

minute the branches struck her across the eyes, and in spite of all her pains,

it so happened she tore off a leaf.

“AU! AU! what have you done now?” said the Bull.

“There’s nothing for it now but to fight for life and death, for

this Troll has six heads, and is twice as strong as the other, but mind you

keep the leaf safe, and don’t lose it.”

Just as he said that, up came the Troll:

“Who is this”, he said, “that touches my wood?”

“It’s as much mine as yours”, said the Bull.

“That we’ll try a fall about”, roared the Troll.

“As you choose”, said the Bull, and rushed at the Troll, and gored

out his eyes, and drove his horns right through his body, so that the entrails

gushed out; but the Troll was almost a match for him, and it lasted three whole

days before the Bull got the life gored out of him. But then he, too, was so

weak and wretched, it was as much as he could do to stir a limb, and so full of

wounds, that the blood streamed from him. So he said to the King’s

daughter she must take the horn of ointment that hung at the Troll’s

belt, and rub him with it. Then she did that, and he came to himself; but they

were forced to stay there a week to rest before the Bull had strength enough to

go on.

At last they set off again, but the Bull was still poorly, and they went rather

slowly at first. So, to spare time, the King’s daughter said, as she was

young and light of foot, she could very well walk, but she couldn’t get

leave to do that. No; she must seat herself up on his back again. So on they

travelled through many lands a long time, and the King’s daughter did not

know in the least whither they went; but after a long, long time they came to a

gold wood. It was so grand, the gold dropped from every twig, and all the

trees, and boughs, and flowers, and leaves, were of pure gold. Here, too, the

same thing happened as had happened in the silver wood and copper wood. The

Bull told the King’s daughter she mustn’t touch it for anything,

for there was a Troll with nine heads who owned it, and he was much bigger and

stouter than both the others put together; and he didn’t think he could

get the better of him. No; she’d be sure to take heed not to touch it;

that he might know very well. But when they got into the wood, it was far

thicker and closer than the silver wood, and the deeper they went into it, the

worse it got. The wood went on, getting thicker and thicker, and closer and

closer; and at last she thought there was no way at all to get through it. She

was in such an awful fright of plucking off anything, that she sat, and

twisted, and turned herself this way and that, and hither and thither, to keep

clear of the boughs, and she put them on one side with her hands; but every

moment the branches struck her across the eyes, so that she couldn’t see

what she was clutching at; and lo! before she knew how it came about, she had a

gold apple in her hand. Then she was so bitterly sorry, she burst into tears,

and wanted to throw it away; but the Bull said, she must keep it safe and watch

it well, and comforted her as well as he could; but he thought it would be a

hard tussle, and he doubted how it would go.

Just then up came the Troll with the nine heads, and he was so ugly, the

King’s daughter scarcely dared to look at him.

“WHO IS THIS THAT TOUCHES MY WOOD?” he roared.

“It’s just as much mine as yours”, said the Bull.

“That we’ll try a fall about”, roared the Troll again.

“Just as you choose”, said the Bull; and so they rushed at one

another, and fought, and it was such a dreadful sight, the King’s

daughter was ready to swoon away. The Bull gored out the Troll’s eyes,

and drove his horns through and through his body, till the entrails came

tumbling out; but the Troll fought bravely; and when the Bull got one head

gored to death, the rest breathed life into it again, and so it lasted a whole

week before the Bull was able to get the life out of them all. But then he was

utterly worn out and wretched. He couldn’t stir a foot, and his body was

all one wound. He couldn’t so much as ask the King’s daughter to

take the horn of ointment which hung at the Troll’s belt, and rub it over

him. But she did it all the same, and then he came to himself by little and

little; but they had to lie there and rest three weeks before he was fit to go

on again.

Then they set off at a snail’s pace, for the Bull said they had still a

little further to go, and so they crossed over many high hills and thick woods.

So after awhile they got upon the fells.

“Do you see anything?” asked the Bull.

“No, I see nothing but the sky, and the wild fell”, said the

King’s daughter.

So when they clomb higher up, the fell got smoother, and they could see further

off.

“Do you see anything now?” asked the Bull.

“Yes, I see a little castle far, far away”, said the Princess.

“That’s not so little though”, said the Bull.

After a long, long time, they came to a great cairn, where there was a spur of

the fell that stood sheer across the way.

“Do you see anything now?” asked the Bull.

“Yes, now I see the castle close by”, said the King’s

daughter, “and now it is much, much bigger.”

“Thither you’re to go”, said the Bull. “Right

underneath the castle is a pig-sty, where you are to dwell. When you come

thither you’ll find a wooden cloak, all made of strips of lath; that you

must put on, and go up to the castle and say your name is ‘Katie Woodencloak’,

and ask for a place. But before you go, you must take your penknife and cut my

head off, and then you must flay me, and roll up the hide, and lay it under the

wall of rock yonder, and under the hide you must lay the copper leaf, and the

silver leaf, and the golden apple. Yonder, up against the rock, stands a stick;

and when you want anything, you’ve only got to knock on the wall of rock

with that stick.”

At first she wouldn’t do anything of the kind; but when the Bull said it

was the only thanks he would have for what he had done for her, she

couldn’t help herself. So, however much it grieved her heart, she hacked

and cut away with her knife at the big beast till she got both his head and his

hide off, and then she laid the hide up under the wall of rock, and put the

copper leaf, and the silvern leaf, and the golden apple inside it.

So when she had done that, she went over to the pig-sty, but all the while she

went she sobbed and wept. There she put on the wooden cloak, and so went up to

the palace. When she came into the kitchen she begged for a place, and told

them her name was Katie Woodencloak. Yes, the cook said she might have a

place—she might have leave to be there in the scullery, and wash up, for

the lassie who did that work before had just gone away.

“But as soon as you get weary of being here, you’ll go your way

too, I’ll be bound.”

No; she was sure she wouldn’t do that.

So there she was, behaving so well, and washing up so handily. The Sunday after

there were to be strange guests at the palace, so Katie asked if she might have

leave to carry up water for the Prince’s bath; but all the rest laughed

at her, and said:

“What should you do there? Do you think the Prince will care to look at

you, you who are such a fright!”

But she wouldn’t give it up, and kept on begging and praying; and at last

she got leave. So when she went up the stairs, her wooden cloak made such a

clatter, the Prince came out and asked:

“Pray who are you?”

“Oh! I was just going to bring up water for your Royal Highness’s

bath”, said Katie.

“Do you think now”, said the Prince, “I’d have anything

to do with the water you bring?” and with that he threw the water over

her.

So she had to put up with that, but then she asked leave to go to church; well,

she got that leave too, for the church lay close by. But, first of all, she

went to the rock, and knocked on its face with the stick which stood there,

just as the Bull had said. And straightway out came a man, who said:

“What’s your will?”

So the Princess said she had got leave to go to church and hear the priest

preach, but she had no clothes to go in. So he brought out a kirtle, which was

as bright as the copper wood, and she got a horse and saddle beside. Now, when

she got to the church she was so lovely and grand, all wondered who she could

be, and scarce one of them listened to what the priest said, for they looked

too much at her. As for the Prince, he fell so deep in love with her, he

didn’t take his eyes off her for a single moment.

So, as she went out of church, the Prince ran after her, and held the church

door open for her; and so he got hold of one of her gloves, which was caught in

the door. When she went away and mounted her horse, the Prince went up to her

again, and asked whence she came.

“Oh! I’m from Bath”, said Katie; and while the Prince took

out the glove to give it to her, she said:

Bright before and dark behind, Clouds come rolling on the wind; That this Prince may never see Where my good steed goes with me.

The Prince had never seen the like of that glove, and went about far and wide

asking after the land whence the proud lady, who rode off without her glove,

said she came; but there was no one who could tell where “Bath”

lay.

Next Sunday some one had to go up to the Prince with a towel.

“Oh! may I have leave to go up with it?” said Katie.

“What’s the good of your going?” said the others; “you

saw how it fared with you last time.”

But Katie wouldn’t give in; she kept on begging and praying, till she got

leave; and then she ran up the stairs, so that her wooden cloak made a great

clatter. Out came the Prince, and when he saw it was Katie, he tore the towel

out of her hand, and threw it into her face.

“Pack yourself off, you ugly Troll”, he cried; “do you think

I’d have a towel which you have touched with your smutty fingers?”

After that the Prince set off to church, and Katie begged for leave to go too.

They all asked what business she had at church—she who had nothing to put

on but that wooden cloak, which was so black and ugly. But Katie said the

priest was such a brave man to preach, what he said did her so much good; and

so she at last got leave. Now she went again to the rock and knocked, and so

out came the man, and gave her a kirtle far finer than the first one; it was

all covered with silver, and it shone like the silver wood; and she got besides

a noble steed, with a saddle-cloth broidered with silver, and a silver bit.

So when the King’s daughter got to the church, the folk were still

standing about in the churchyard. And all wondered and wondered who she could

be, and the Prince was soon on the spot, and came and wished to hold her horse

for her while she got off. But she jumped down, and said there was no need, for

her horse was so well broke, it stood still when she bid it, and came when she

called it. So they all went into church; but there was scarce a soul that

listened to what the priest said, for they looked at her a deal too much; and

the Prince fell still deeper in love than the first time.

When the sermon was over, and she went out of church and was going to mount her

horse, up came the Prince again, and asked her whence she came.

“Oh! I’m from Towelland”, said the King’s daughter; and

as she said that, she dropped her riding-whip, and when the Prince stooped to

pick it up, she said:

Bright before and dark behind, Clouds come rolling on the wind; That this Prince may never see Where my good steed goes with me.

So away she was again; and the Prince couldn’t tell what had become of

her. He went about far and wide asking after the land whence she said she came,

but there was no one who could tell him where it lay; and so the Prince had to

make the best he could of it.

Next Sunday some one had to go up to the Prince with a comb. Katie begged for

leave to go up with it, but the others put her in mind how she had fared the

last time, and scolded her for wishing to go before the Prince—such a

black and ugly fright as she was in her wooden cloak. But she wouldn’t

leave off asking till they let her go up to the Prince with his comb. So, when

she came clattering up the stairs again, out came the Prince, and took the

comb, and threw it at her, and bade her be off as fast as she could. After that

the Prince went to church, and Katie begged for leave to go too. They asked

again what business she had there, she who was so foul and black, and who had

no clothes to show herself in. Might be the Prince or some one else would see

her, and then both she and all the others would smart for it; but Katie said

they had something else to do than to look at her; and she wouldn’t leave

off begging and praying till they gave her leave to go.

So the same thing happened now as had happened twice before. She went to the

rock and knocked with the stick, and then the man came out and gave her a

kirtle which was far grander than either of the others. It was almost all pure

gold, and studded with diamonds; and she got besides a noble steed, with a gold

broidered saddle-cloth and a golden bit.

Now when the King’s daughter got to the church, there stood the priest

and all the people in the churchyard waiting for her. Up came the Prince

running, and wanted to hold her horse, but she jumped off, and said:

“No; thanks—there’s no need, for my horse is so well broke,

it stands still when I bid him.”

So they all hastened into church, and the priest got into the pulpit, but no

one listened to a word he said; for they all looked too much at her, and

wondered whence she came; and the Prince, he was far deeper in love than either

of the former times. He had no eyes, or ears, or sense for anything, but just

to sit and stare at her.

So when the sermon was over, and the King’s daughter was to go out of the

church, the Prince had got a firkin of pitch poured out in the porch, that he

might come and help her over it; but she didn’t care a bit—she just

put her foot right down into the midst of the pitch, and jumped across it; but

then one of her golden shoes stuck fast in it, and as she got on her horse, up

came the Prince running out of the church, and asked whence she came.

“I’m from Combland”, said Katie. But when the Prince wanted

to reach her the gold shoe, she said,

Bright before and dark behind, Clouds come rolling on the wind; That this Prince may never see Where my good steed goes with me.

So the Prince couldn’t tell still what had become of her, and he went

about a weary time all over the world asking for “Combland”; but

when no one could tell him where it lay, he ordered it to be given out

everywhere that he would wed the woman whose foot could fit the gold shoe.

So many came of all sorts from all sides, fair and ugly alike; but there was no

one who had so small a foot as to be able to get on the gold shoe. And after a

long, long time, who should come but Katie’s wicked stepmother, and her

daughter, too, and her the gold shoe fitted; but ugly she was, and so loathly

she looked, the Prince only kept his word sore against his will. Still they got

ready the wedding-feast, and she was dressed up and decked out as a bride; but

as they rode to church, a little bird sat upon a tree and sang:

A bit off her heel, And a bit off her toe; Katie Woodencloak’s tiny shoe Is full of blood—that’s all I know.

And, sure enough, when they looked to it the bird told the truth, for blood

gushed out of the shoe.

Then all the maids and women who were about the palace had to go up to try on

the shoe, but there was none of them whom it would fit at all.

“But where’s Katie Woodencloak?” asked the Prince, when all

the rest had tried the shoe, for he understood the song of birds very well, and

bore in mind what the little bird had said.

“Oh! she think of that!” said the rest; “it’s no good

her coming forward. Why, she’s legs like a horse.”

“Very true, I daresay”, said the Prince; “but since all the

others have tried, Katie may as well try too.”

“Katie”, he bawled out through the door; and Katie came trampling

upstairs, and her wooden cloak clattered as if a whole regiment of dragoons

were charging up.

“Now, you must try the shoe on, and be a Princess, you too,” said

the other maids, and laughed and made game of her.

So Katie took up the shoe, and put her foot into it like nothing, and threw off

her wooden cloak; and so there she stood in her gold kirtle, and it shone so

that the sunbeams glistened from her; and, lo! on her other foot she had the

fellow to the gold shoe.

So when the Prince knew her again, he grew so glad, he ran up to her and threw

his arms round her, and gave her a kiss; and when he heard she was a

King’s daughter, he got gladder still, and then came the wedding feast;

and so,

Snip, snip, snover, This story’s over.

THUMBIKIN Once on a time there was a woman who had an only son, and he was no taller than

your thumb; and so they called him Thumbikin. Now, when he had come to be old enough to know right and wrong, his mother told

him to go out and woo him a bride, for now she said it was high time he thought

about getting a wife. When Thumbikin heard that, he was very glad; so they got

their driving gear in order and set off, and his mother put him into her bosom.

Now they were going to a palace where there was an awfully big Princess, but

when they had gone a bit of the way, Thumbikin was lost and gone. His mother

hunted for him everywhere, and bawled to him, and wept because he was lost, and

she couldn’t find him again. “ Pip, Pip ”, said Thumbikin, “here I am”; and he

had hidden himself in the horse’s mane. So he came out, and had to give his word to his mother that he wouldn’t

do so any more. But when they had driven a bit further on, Thumbikin was lost

again. His mother hunted for him, and called him, and wept; but gone he was,

and gone he stayed. “ Pip, Pip ”, said Thumbikin at last; and then she heard how

he laughed and tittered, but she couldn’t find him at all for the life of

her. “ Pip, Pip , why, here I am now!” said Thumbikin, and came

out of the horse’s ear. So he had to give his word that he wouldn’t hide himself again; but they

had scarce driven a bit further before he was gone again. He couldn’t

help it. As for his mother, she hunted, and wept, and called him by name; but

gone he was, and gone he stayed; and the more she hunted, the less she could

find him in any way. “ Pip, Pip , here I am then”, said Thumbikin. But she couldn’t make out at all where he was, his voice sounded so dull,

and muffled. So she hunted, and he kept on saying, “Pip, here I am”, and laughed

and chuckled, but she couldn’t find him; but all at once the horse

snorted, and it snorted Thumbikin out, for he had crept up one of his nostrils. Then his mother took him and put him into a bag; she knew no other way, for she

saw well enough he couldn’t help hiding himself. So, when they came to the palace, the match was soon made, for the Princess

thought him a pretty little chap, and it wasn’t long before the wedding

came on too. Now, when they were going to sit down to the wedding-feast, Thumbikin sat at

the table by the Princess’s side; but he had worse than no seat, for when

he was to eat he couldn’t reach up to the table; and so if the Princess

hadn’t helped him up on to it, he wouldn’t have got a bit to eat. Now it went good and well so long as he had to eat off a plate, but then there

came a great bowl of porridge—that he couldn’t reach up to; but

Thumbikin soon found out a way to help himself; he climbed up and sat on the

lip of the bowl. But then there was a pat of melting butter right in the middle

of the bowl, and that he couldn’t reach to dip his porridge into it, and

so he went on and took his seat at the edge of the melting butter; but just

then who should come but the Princess, with a great spoonful of porridge to dip

it into the butter; and, alas! she went too near to Thumbikin, and tipped him

over; and so he fell over head and ears, and was drowned in the melted butter.