LORD PETER

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. THE SEVEN FOALS Once on a time there was a poor couple who lived in a wretched hut, far far away in the wood. How they lived I can’t tell, but I’m sure it was from hand to mouth, and hard work even then; but they had three sons, and the youngest of them was Boots, of course, for he did little else than lie there and poke about in the ashes. So one day the eldest lad said he would go out to earn his bread, and he soon got leave, and wandered out into the world. There he walked and walked the whole day, and when evening drew in, he came to a king’s palace, and there stood the King out on the steps, and asked whither he was bound. “Oh, I’m going about, looking after a place”, said the lad. “Will you serve me?” asked the King, “and watch my seven foals. If you can watch them one whole day, and tell me at night what they eat and what they drink, you shall have the Princess to wife, and half my kingdom; but if you can’t, I’ll cut three red stripes out of your back. Do you hear?” Yes! that was an easy task, the lad thought; he’d do that fast enough, never fear. So next morning, as soon as the first peep of dawn came, the king’s coachman let out the seven foals. Away they went, and the lad after them. You may fancy how they tore over hill and dale, through bush and bog. When the lad had run so a long time, he began to get weary, and when he had held on a while longer, he had more than enough of his watching, and just there, he came to a cleft in a rock, where an old hag sat and spun with a distaff. As soon as she saw the lad who was running after the foals till the sweat ran down his brow, this old hag bawled out: “Come hither, come hither, my pretty son, and let me comb your hair.” Yes! the lad was willing enough; so he sat down in the cleft of the rock with the old hag, and laid his head on her lap, and she combed his hair all day whilst he lay there, and stretched his lazy bones. So, when evening drew on, the lad wanted to go away. “I may just as well toddle straight home now”, said he, “for it’s no use my going back to the palace.” “Stop a bit till it’s dark”, said the old hag, “and then the king’s foals will pass by here again, and then you can run home with them, and then no one will know that you have lain here all day long, instead of watching the foals.” So, when they came, she gave the lad a flask of water and a clod of turf. Those he was to show to the King, and say that was what his seven foals ate and drank. “Have you watched true and well the whole day, now?” asked the King, when the lad came before him in the evening. “Yes, I should think so”, said the lad. “Then you can tell me what my seven foals eat and drink”, said the King. “Yes!” and so the lad pulled out the flask of water and the clod of turf, which the old hag had given him. “Here you see their meat, and here you see their drink”, said the lad. But then the King saw plain enough how he had watched, and he got so wroth, he ordered his men to chase him away home on the spot; but first they were to cut three red stripes out of his back, and rub salt into them. So when the lad got home again, you may fancy what a temper he was in. He’d gone out once to get a place, he said, but he’d never do so again. Next day the second sons aid he would go out into the world to try his luck. His father and mother said “No”, and bade him look at his brother’s back; but the lad wouldn’t give in; he held to his own, and at last he got leave to go, and set off. So when he had walked the whole day, he, too, came to the king’s palace. There stood the King out on the steps, and asked whither he was bound? and when the lad said he was looking about for a place, the King said he might have a place there, and watch his seven foals. But the king laid down the same punishment, and the same reward, as he had settled for his brother. Well, the lad was willing enough; he took the place at once with the King, for he thought he’d soon watch the foals, and tell the King what they ate and drank. So, in the gray of the morning, the coachman let out the seven foals, and off they went again over hill and dale, and the lad after them. But the same thing happened to him as had befallen his brother. When he had run after the foals a long long time, till he was both warm and weary, he passed by the cleft in a rock, where an old hag sat and spun with a distaff, and she bawled out to the lad: “Come hither, come hither, my pretty son, and let me comb your hair.” That the lad thought a good offer, so he let the foals run on their way, and sat down in the cleft with the old hag. There he sat, and there he lay, taking his ease, and stretching his lazy bones the whole day. When the foals came back at nightfall, he too got a flask of water and clod of turf from the old hag to show to the King. But when the King asked the lad: “Can you tell me now, what my seven foals eat and drink?” and the lad pulled out the flask and the clod, and said: “Here you see their meat, and here you see their drink.” Then the King got wroth again, and ordered them to cut three red stripes out of the lad’s back, and rub salt in, and chase him home that very minute. And so when the lad got home, he also told how he had fared, and said, he had gone out once to get a place, but he’d never do so any more. The third day Boots wanted to set out; he had a great mind to try and watch the seven foals, he said. The others laughed at him, and made game of him, saying: “When we fared so ill, you’ll do it better—a fine joke; you look like it—you, who have never done anything but lie there and poke about in the ashes.” “Yes!” said Boots, “I don’t see why I shouldn’t go, for I’ve got it into my head, and can’t get it out again.” And so, in spite of all the jeers of the others and the prayers of the old people, there was no help for it, and Boots set out. So after he had walked the whole day, he too came at dusk to the king’s palace. There stood the King out on the steps, and asked whither he was bound. “Oh”, said Boots, “I’m going about seeing if I can hear of a place.” “Whence do you come then?” said the King, for he wanted to know a little more about them before he took any one into his service. So Boots said whence he came, and how he was brother to those two who had watched the king’s seven foals, and ended by asking if he might try to watch them next day. “Oh, stuff!” said the King, for he got quite cross if he even thought of them; “if you’re brother to those two, you’re not worth much, I’ll be bound. I’ve had enough of such scamps.” “Well”, said Boots; but since I’ve come so far, I may just as well get leave to try, I too.” “Oh, very well; with all my heart”, said the King, “if you will have your back flayed, you’re quite welcome.” “I’d much rather have the Princess”, said Boots. So next morning, at gray of dawn, the coachman let out the seven foals again, and away they went over hill and dale, through bush and bog, and Boots behind them. And so, when he too had run a long while, he came to the cleft in the rock, where the old hag sat, spinning at her distaff. So she bawled out to Boots: “Come hither, come hither, my pretty son, and let me comb your hair.” “Don’t you wish you may catch me”, said Boots. “Don’t you wish you may catch me”, as he ran along, leaping and jumping, and holding on by one of the foal’s tails. And when he had got well past the cleft in the rock, the youngest foal said: “Jump up on my back, my lad, for we’ve a long way before us still.” So Boots jumped up on his back. So they went on, and on, a long, long way. “Do you see anything now”, said the Foal. “No”, said Boots. So they went on a good bit farther. “Do you see anything now?” asked the Foal. “Oh no”, said the lad. So when they had gone a great, great way farther—I’m sure I can’t tell how far—the Foal asked again: “Do you see anything now?” “Yes”, said Boots; “now I see something that looks white—just like a tall, big birch trunk.” “Yes”, said the Foal; “we’re going into that trunk.” So when they got to the trunk, the eldest foal took and pushed it on one side, and then they saw a door where it had stood, and inside the door was a little room, and in the room there was scarce anything but a little fireplace and one or two benches; but behind the door hung a great rusty sword and a little pitcher. “Can you brandish the sword?” said the Foals; “try.” So Boots tried, but he couldn’t; then they made him take a pull at the pitcher; first once, then twice, and then thrice, and then he could wield it like anything. “Yes”, said the Foals, “now you may take the sword with you, and with it you must cut off all our seven heads on your wedding-day, and then we’ll be princes again as we were before. For we are brothers of that Princess whom you are to have when you can tell the King what we eat and drink; but an ugly Troll has thrown this shape over us. Now mind, when you have hewn off our heads, to take care to lay each head at the tail of the trunk which it belonged to before, and then the spell will have no more power over us.” Yes! Boots promised all that, and then on they went. And when they had travelled a long long way, the Foal asked: “Do you see anything?” “No”, said Boots. So they travelled a good bit still. “And now?” asked the Foal. “No, I see nothing”, said Boots. So they travelled many many miles again, over hill and dale. “Now then”, said the Foal, “do you see anything now?” “Yes”, said Boots, “now I see something like a blue stripe, far far away.” “Yes”, said the Foal, “that’s a river we’ve got to cross.” Over the river was a long, grand bridge; and when they had got over to the other side, they travelled on a long, long way. At last the Foal asked again: “If Boots didn’t see anything?” “Yes, this time he saw something that looked black far far away, just as though it were a church steeple.” “Yes”, said the Foal, “that’s where we’re going to turn in.” So when the foals got into the churchyard, they became men again, and looked like Princes, with such fine clothes that it glistened from them; and so they went into the church, and took the bread and wine from the priest who stood at the altar. And Boots he went in too; but when the priest had laid his hands on the Princes, and given them the blessing, they went out of the church again, and Boots went out too; but he took with him a flask of wine and a wafer. And soon as ever the seven Princes came out into the churchyard, they were turned into foals again, and so Boots got up on the back of the youngest, and so they all went back the same way that they had come; only they went much, much faster. First they crossed the bridge, next they passed the trunk, and then they passed the old hag, who sat at the cleft and span, and they went by her so fast, that Boots couldn’t hear what the old hag screeched after him; but he heard so much as to know she was in an awful rage. It was almost dark when they got back to the palace, and the King himself stood out on the steps and waited for them. “Have you watched well and true the whole day?” said he to Boots. “I’ve done my best”, answered Boots. “Then you can tell me what my seven foals eat and drink”, said the King. Then Boots pulled out the flask of wine and the wafer, and showed them to the King. “Here you see their meat, and here you see their drink”, said he. “Yes”, said the King, “you have watched true and well, and you shall have the Princess and half the kingdom.” So they made ready the wedding-feast, and the King said it should be such a grand one, it should be the talk far and near. But when they sat down to the bridal-feast, the bridegroom got up and went down to the stable, for he said he had forgotten something, and must go to fetch it. And when he got down there, he did as the Foals had said, and hewed their heads off, all seven, the eldest first, and the others after him; and at the same time he took care to lay each head at the tail of the foal to which it belonged; and as he did this, lo! they all became Princes again. So when he went into the bridal hall with the seven princes, the King was so glad he both kissed Boots and patted him on the back, and his bride was still more glad of him than she had been before. “Half the kingdom you have got already”, said the King, “and the other half you shall have after my death; for my sons can easily get themselves lands and wealth, now they are princes again.” And so, like enough, there was mirth and fun at that wedding. I was there too; but there was no one to care for poor me; and so I got nothing but a bit of bread and butter, and I laid it down on the stove, and the bread was burnt and the butter ran, and so I didn’t get even the smallest crumb. Wasn’t that a great shame?