TRUE and UNTRUE

TRUE AND UNTRUE

Once on a time there were two brothers; one was called True, and the other

Untrue. True was always upright and good towards all, but Untrue was bad and

full of lies, so that no one could believe what he said. Their mother was a

widow, and hadn’t much to live on; so when her sons had grown up, she was

forced to send them away, that they might earn their bread in the world. Each

got a little scrip with some food in it, and then they went their way.

Now, when they had walked till evening, they sat down on a windfall in the

wood, and took out their scraps, for they were hungry after walking the whole

day, and thought a morsel of food would be sweet enough.

“If you’re of my mind”, said Untrue, “I think we had

better eat out of your scrip, so long as there is anything in it, and after

that we can take to mine.”

Yes! True was well pleased with this, so they fell to eating, but Untrue got

all the best bits, and stuffed himself with them, while True got only the burnt

crusts and scraps.

Next morning they broke their fast off True’s food, and they dined off it

too, and then there was nothing left in his scrip. So when they had walked till

late at night, and were ready to eats again, True wanted to eat out of his

brother’s scrip, but Untrue said “No”, the food was his, and

he had only enough for himself.

“Nay! but you know you ate out of my scrip so long as there was anything

in it”, said True.

“All very fine, I daresay”, answered Untrue; “but if you are

such a fool as to let others eat up your food before your face, you must make

the best of it; for now all you have to do is to sit here and starve.”

“Very well!” said True, “you’re Untrue by name and

untrue by nature; so you have been, and so you will be all your life

long.”

Now when Untrue heard this, he flew into a rage, and rushed at his brother, and

plucked out both his eyes. “Now, try if you can see whether folk are

untrue or not, you blind buzzard!” and so saying, he ran away and left

him.

Poor True! there he went walking along and feeling his way through the thick

wood. Blind and alone, he scarce knew which way to turn, when all at once he

caught hold of the trunk of a great bushy lime-tree, so he thought he would

climb up into it, and sit there till the night was over for fear of the wild

beasts.

“When the birds begin to sing”, he said to himself, “then I

shall know it is day, and I can try to grope my way farther on.” So he

climbed up into the lime-tree. After he had sat there a little time, he heard

how some one came and began to make a stir and clatter under the tree, and soon

after others came; and when they began to greet one another, he found out it

was Bruin the bear, and Greylegs the wolf, and Slyboots the fox, and Longears

the hare who had come to keep St. John’s eve under the tree. So they

began to eat and drink, and be merry; and when they had done eating, they fell

to gossipping together. At last the Fox said:

“Shan’t we, each of us, tell a little story while we sit

here?” Well! the others had nothing against that. It would be good fun,

they said, and the Bear began; for you may fancy he was king of the company.

“The king of England”, said Bruin, “has such bad eyesight, he

can scarce see a yard before him; but if he only came to this lime-tree in the

morning, while the dew is still on the leaves, and took and rubbed his eyes

with the dew, he would get back his sight as good as ever.”

“Very true!” said Greylegs. “The king of England has a deaf

and dumb daughter too; but if he only knew what I know, he would soon cure her.

Last year she went to the communion. She let a crumb of the bread fall out of

her mouth, and a great toad came and swallowed it down; but if they only dug up

the chancel floor, they would find the toad sitting right under the altar

rails, with the bread still sticking in his throat. If they were to cut the

toad open and take and give the bread to the princess, she would be like other

folk again as to her speech and hearing.”

“That’s all very well”, said the Fox; “but if the king

of England knew what I know, he would not be so badly off for water in his

palace; for under the great stone, in his palace-yard, is a spring of the

clearest water one could wish for, if he only knew to dig for it there.”

“Ah!” said the Hare in a small voice; “the king of England

has the finest orchard in the whole land, but it does not bear so much as a

crab, for there lies a heavy gold chain in three turns round the orchard. If he

got that dug up, there would not be a garden like it for bearing in all his

kingdom.”

“Very true, I dare say”, said the Fox; “but now it’s

getting very late, and we may as well go home.”

So they all went away together.

After they were gone, True fell asleep as he sat up in the tree; but when the

birds began to sing at dawn, he woke up, and took the dew from the leaves, and

rubbed his eyes with it, and so got his sight back as good as it was before

Untrue plucked his eyes out.

Then he went straight to the king of England’s palace, and begged for

work, and got it on the spot. So one day the king came out into the

palace-yard, and when he had walked about a bit, he wanted to drink out of his

pump; for you must know the day was hot, and the king very thirsty; but when

they poured him out a glass, it was so muddy, and nasty, and foul, that the

king got quite vexed.

“I don’t think there’s ever a man in my whole kingdom who has

such bad water in his yard as I, and yet I bring it in pipes from far, over

hill and dale”, cried out the king. “Like enough, your

Majesty”, said True; “but if you would let me have some men to help

me to dig up this great stone which lies here in the middle of your yard, you

would soon see good water, and plenty of it.”

Well! the king was willing enough; and they had scarcely got the stone well

out, and dug under it a while, before a jet of water sprang out high up into

the air, as clear and full as if it came out of a conduit, and clearer water

was not to be found in all England.

A little while after the king was out in his palace-yard again, and there came

a great hawk flying after his chicken, and all the king’s men began to

clap their hands and bawl out, “There he flies!” “There he

flies!” The king caught up his gun and tried to shoot the hawk, but he

couldn’t see so far, so he fell into great grief.

“Would to Heaven”, he said, “there was any one who could tell

me a cure for my eyes; for I think I shall soon go quite blind!”

“I can tell you one soon enough”, said True; and then he told the

king what he had done to cure his own eyes, and the king set off that very

afternoon to the lime-tree, as you may fancy, and his eyes were quite cured as

soon as he rubbed them with the dew which was on the leaves in the morning.

From that time forth there was no one whom the king held so dear as True, and

he had to be with him wherever he went, both at home and abroad.

So one day, as they were walking together in the orchard, the king said,

“I can’t tell how it is that I can’t! there

isn’t a, man in England who spends so much on his orchard as I, and yet I

can’t get one of the trees to bear so much as a crab.”

“Well! well!” said True; “if I may have what lies three times

twisted round your orchard, and men to dig it up, your orchard will bear well

enough.”

Yes! the king was quite willing, so True got men and began to dig, and at last

he dug up the whole gold chain. Now True was a rich man; far richer indeed than

the king himself, but still the king was well pleased, for his orchard bore so

that the boughs of the trees hung down to the ground, and such sweet apples and

pears nobody had ever tasted.

Another day too the king and True were walking about, and talking together,

when the princess passed them, and the king was quite downcast when he saw her.

“Isn’t it a pity, now, that so lovely a princess as mine should

want speech and hearing”, he said to True.

“Ay, but there is a cure for that”, said True.

When the king heard that, he was so glad that he promised him the princess to

wife, and half his kingdom into the bargain, if he could get her right again.

So True took a few men, and went into the church, and dug up the toad which sat

under the altar-rails. Then he cut open the toad, and took out the bread and

gave it to the king’s daughter; and from that hour she got back her

speech, and could talk like other people.

Now True was to have the princess, and they got ready for the bridal feast, and

such a feast had never been seen before; it was the talk of the whole land.

Just as they were in the midst of dancing the bridal-dance in came a beggar

lad, and begged for a morsel of food, and he was so ragged and wretched that

every one crossed themselves when they looked at him; but True knew him at

once, and saw that it was Untrue, his brother.

“Do you know me again?” said True.

“Oh! where should such a one as I ever have seen so great a lord”,

said Untrue.

“Still you have seen me before”, said True. “It was I

whose eyes you plucked out a year ago this very day. Untrue by name, and untrue

by nature; so I said before, and so I say now; but you are still my brother,

and so you shall have some food. After that, you may go to the lime-tree where

I sat last year; if you hear anything that can do you good, you will be

lucky.”

So Untrue did not wait to be told twice. “If True has got so much good by

sitting in the lime-tree, that in one year he has come to be king over half

England, what good may not I get”, he thought. So he set off and climbed

up into the lime-tree. He had not sat there long, before all the beasts came as

before, and ate and drank, and kept St. John’s eve under the tree. When

they had left off eating, the Fox wished that they should begin to tell

stories, and Untrue got ready to listen with all his might, till his ears were

almost fit to fall off. But Bruin the bear was surly, and growled and said:

“Some one has been chattering about what we said last year, and so now we

will hold our tongues about what we know”; and with that the beasts bade

one another “Good-night”, and parted, and Untrue was just as wise

as he was before, and the reason was, that his name was Untrue, and his nature

untrue too.

WHY THE SEA IS SALT Once on a time, but it was a long, long time ago, there were two brothers, one

rich and one poor. Now, one Christmas eve, the poor one hadn’t so much as

a crumb in the house, either of meat or bread, so he went to his brother to ask

him for something to keep Christmas with, in God’s name. It was not the

first time his brother had been forced to help him, and you may fancy he

wasn’t very glad to see his face, but he said: “If you will do what I ask you to do, I’ll give you a whole flitch

of bacon.” So the poor brother said he would do anything, and was full of thanks. “Well, here is the flitch”, said the rich brother, “and now

go straight to Hell.” “What I have given my word to do, I must stick to”, said the other;

so he took the flitch and set off. He walked the whole day, and at dusk he came

to a place where he saw a very bright light. “Maybe this is the place”, said the man to himself. So he turned

aside, and the first thing he saw was an old, old man, with a long white beard,

who stood in an outhouse, hewing wood for the Christmas fire. “Good even”, said the man with the flitch. “The same to you; whither are you going so late?” said the man. “Oh! I’m going to Hell, if I only knew the right way”,

answered the poor man. “Well, you’re not far wrong, for this is Hell”, said the old

man; “when you get inside they will be all for buying your flitch, for

meat is scarce in Hell; but mind, you don’t sell it unless you get the

hand-quern which stands behind the door for it. When you come out, I’ll

teach you how to handle the quern, for it’s good to grind almost

anything.” So the man with the flitch thanked the other for his good advice, and gave a

great knock at the Devil’s door. When he got in, everything went just as the old man had said. All the devils,

great and small, came swarming up to him like ants round an anthill, and each

tried to outbid the other for the flitch. “Well!” said the man, “by rights my old dame and I ought to

have this flitch for our Christmas dinner; but since you have all set your

hearts on it, I suppose I must give it up to you; but if I sell it at all,

I’ll have for it that quern behind the door yonder.” At first the Devil wouldn’t hear of such a bargain, and chaffered and

haggled with the man; but he stuck to what he said, and at last the Devil had

to part with his quern. When the man got out into the yard, he asked the old

woodcutter how he was to handle the quern; and after he had learned how to use

it, he thanked the old man and went off home as fast as he could, but still the

clock had struck twelve on Christmas eve before he reached his own door. “Wherever in the world have you been?” said his old dame,

“here have I sat hour after hour waiting and watching, without so much as

two sticks to lay together under the Christmas brose.” “Oh!” said the man, “I couldn’t get back before, for I

had to go a long way first for one thing, and then for another; but now you

shall see what you shall see.” So he put the quern on the table, and bade it first of all grind lights, then a

table-cloth, then meat, then ale, and so on till they had got everything that

was nice for Christmas fare. He had only to speak the word, and the quern

ground out what he wanted. The old dame stood by blessing her stars, and kept

on asking where he had got this wonderful quern, but he wouldn’t tell

her. “It’s all one where I got it from; you see the quern is a good one,

and the mill-stream never freezes, that’s enough.” So he ground meat and drink and dainties enough to last out till Twelfth Day,

and on the third day he asked all his friends and kin to his house, and gave a

great feast. Now, when his rich brother saw all that was on the table, and all

that was behind in the larder, he grew quite spiteful and wild, for he

couldn’t bear that his brother should have anything. “’Twas only on Christmas eve”, he said to the rest, “he

was in such straits, that he came and asked for a morsel of food in God’s

name, and now he gives a feast as if he were count or king”; and he

turned to his brother and said: “But whence, in Hell’s name, have you got all this wealth?” “From behind the door”, answered the owner of the quern, for he

didn’t care to let the cat out of the bag. But later on the evening, when

he had got a drop too much, he could keep his secret no longer, and brought out

the quern and said: “There, you see what has gotten me all this wealth”; and so he made

the quern grind all kind of things. When his brother saw it, he set his heart

on having the quern, and, after a deal of coaxing, he got it; but he had to pay

three hundred dollars for it, and his brother bargained to keep it till

hay-harvest, for he thought, if I keep it till then, I can make it grind meat

and drink that will last for years. So you may fancy the quern didn’t

grow rusty for want of work, and when hay-harvest came, the rich brother got

it, but the other took care not to teach him how to handle it. It was evening when the rich brother got the quern home, and next morning he

told his wife to go out into the hay-field and toss, while the mowers cut the

grass, and he would stay at home and get the dinner ready. So, when dinner-time

drew near, he put the quern on the kitchen table and said: “Grind herrings and broth, and grind them good and fast.” So the quern began to grind herrings and broth; first of all, all the dishes

full, then all the tubs full, and so on till the kitchen floor was quite

covered. Then the man twisted and twirled at the quern to get it to stop, but

for all his twisting and fingering the quern went on grinding, and in a little

while the broth rose so high that the man was like to drown. So he threw open

the kitchen door and ran into the parlour, but it wasn’t long before the

quern had ground the parlour full too, and it was only at the risk of his life

that the man could get hold of the latch of the house door through the stream

of broth. When he got the door open, he ran out and set off down the road, with

the stream of herrings and broth at his heels, roaring like a waterfall over

the whole farm. Now, his old dame, who was in the field tossing hay, thought it

a long time to dinner, and at last she said: “Well! though the master doesn’t call us home, we may as well go.

Maybe he finds it hard work to boil the broth, and will be glad of my

help.” The men were willing enough, so they sauntered homewards; but just as they had

got a little way up the hill, what should they meet but herrings, and broth,

and bread, all running and dashing, and splashing together in a stream, and the

master himself running before them for his life, and as he passed them he

bawled out: “Would to heaven each of you had a hundred throats! but take care

you’re not drowned in the broth.” Away he went, as though the Evil One were at his heels, to his brother’s

house, and begged him for God’s sake to take back the quern that instant;

for, said he: “If it grinds only one hour more, the whole parish will be swallowed up

by herrings and broth.” But his brother wouldn’t hear of taking it back till the other paid him

down three hundred dollars more. So the poor brother got both the money and the quern, and it wasn’t long

before he set up a farm-house far finer than the one in which his brother

lived, and with the quern he ground so much gold that he covered it with plates

of gold; and as the farm lay by the sea-side, the golden house gleamed and

glistened far away over the sea. All who sailed by put ashore to see the rich

man in the golden house, and to see the wonderful quern, the fame of which

spread far and wide, till there was nobody who hadn’t heard tell of it. So one day there came a skipper who wanted to see the quern; and the first

thing he asked was if it could grind salt. “Grind salt!” said the owner; “I should just think it could.

It can grind anything.” When the skipper heard that, he said he must have the quern, cost what it

would; for if he only had it, he thought he should be rid of his long voyages

across stormy seas for a lading of salt. Well, at first the man wouldn’t

hear of parting with the quern; but the skipper begged and prayed so hard, that

at last he let him have it, but he had to pay many, many thousand dollars for

it. Now, when the skipper had got the quern on his back, he soon made off with

it, for he was afraid lest the man should change his mind; so he had no time to

ask how to handle the quern, but got on board his ship as fast as he could, and

set sail. When he had sailed a good way off, he brought the quern on deck and

said: “Grind salt, and grind both good and fast.” Well, the quern began to grind salt so that it poured out like water; and when

the skipper had got the ship full, he wished to stop the quern, but whichever

way he turned it, and however much he tried, it was no good; the quern kept

grinding on, and the heap of salt grew higher and higher, and at last down sank

the ship. There lies the quern at the bottom of the sea, and grinds away at this very

day, and that’s why the sea is salt.