MR. and MRS. VINEGAR
by Flora Annie Webster Steel · from English Fairy Tales
Adapted Version
Once upon a time. Mr. Vinegar lived with Mrs. Vinegar. They lived in a small house. Their house was a glass jar. It was a pickle-jar. Mr. Vinegar worked in his garden. He grew vegetables. Mrs. Vinegar cleaned the house. She liked it very clean.
One day, Mrs. Vinegar swept. She swept a cobweb. Bang! The broom broke the jar. Crash! The house broke. They had no home now. Mrs. Vinegar was sad.
Mr. Vinegar was happy. "We will find money," he said. "We need a new jar." Mrs. Vinegar asked, "Our door?" "I will take it," said Mr. Vinegar.
They walked all day. Mr. Vinegar carried the door. Night came. They were in a forest. Mr. Vinegar put the door in a tree. Mrs. Vinegar slept on the door.
Some robbers came. They stood under the tree. They had much money. Mr. Vinegar was scared. He shook very much. The door fell down. It fell on the robbers.
The robbers ran away fast. They left their money. It was gold coins. There were forty coins. Mr. and Mrs. Vinegar were happy.
Mrs. Vinegar said, "Buy a cow." "It gives milk," she said. "We can sell milk." "Then we have money."
Mr. Vinegar went to the market. He saw a red cow. "I want that cow," he thought. He gave his forty coins. He got the cow.
He saw a man with bagpipes. "I want those," he thought. He gave the cow. He got the bagpipes. He could not play them.
His fingers were cold. He saw warm gloves. "I want those," he thought. He gave the bagpipes. He got the warm gloves. His hands were warm.
He walked a long way. His feet hurt. He saw a man with a stick. "I want that stick," he thought. He gave the gloves. He got the stick.
A Magpie saw Mr. Vinegar. It laughed at him. "You are a fool!" it said. "You had gold. Now a stick."
Mr. Vinegar was angry. He threw the stick. He threw it at The Magpie. The stick went into a tree. He lost his stick.
Mr. Vinegar went home. He had nothing. Mrs. Vinegar was not happy. They needed a new jar. They decided to work hard.
They worked hard every day. They saved much money. They bought a new jar. They were happy again.
It is good to be happy. It is good to think first. Hard work helps us get things.
Original Story
MR. AND MRS. VINEGAR
Mr. and Mrs. Vinegar, a worthy couple, lived in a glass pickle-jar. The house, though small, was snug, and so light that each speck of dust on the furniture showed like a mole-hill; so while Mr. Vinegar tilled his garden with a pickle-fork and grew vegetables for pickling, Mrs. Vinegar, who was a sharp, bustling, tidy woman, swept, brushed, and dusted, brushed and dusted and swept to keep the house clean as a new pin. Now one day she lost her temper with a cobweb and swept so hard after it that bang! bang! the broom-handle went right through the glass, and crash! crash! clitter! clatter! there was the pickle-jar house about her ears all in splinters and bits.
She picked her way over these as best she might, and rushed into the garden.
"Oh, Vinegar, Vinegar!" she cried. "We are clean ruined and done for! Quit these vegetables! they won't be wanted! What is the use of pickles if you haven't a pickle-jar to put them in, and—I've broken ours—into little bits!" And with that she fell to crying bitterly.
But Mr. Vinegar was of different mettle; though a small man, he was a cheerful one, always looking at the best side of things, so he said, "Accidents will happen, lovey! But there are as good pickle-bottles in the shop as ever came out of it. All we need is money to buy another. So let us go out into the world and seek our fortunes."
"But what about the furniture?" sobbed Mrs. Vinegar.
"I will take the door of the house with me, lovey," quoth Mr. Vinegar stoutly. "Then no one will be able to open it, will they?"
Mrs. Vinegar did not quite see how this fact would mend matters, but, being a good wife, she held her peace. So off they trudged into the world to seek fortune, Mr. Vinegar bearing the door on his back like a snail carries its house.
Well, they walked all day long, but not a brass farthing did they make, and when night fell they found themselves in a dark, thick forest. Now Mrs. Vinegar, for all she was a smart, strong woman, was tired to death, and filled with fear of wild beasts, so she began once more to cry bitterly; but Mr. Vinegar was cheerful as ever.
"Don't alarm yourself, lovey," he said. "I will climb into a tree, fix the door firmly in a fork, and you can sleep there as safe and comfortable as in your own bed."
So he climbed the tree, fixed the door, and Mrs. Vinegar lay down on it, and being dead tired was soon fast asleep. But her weight tilted the door sideways, so, after a time, Mr. Vinegar, being afraid she might slip off, sate down on the other side to balance her and keep watch.
Now in the very middle of the night, just as he was beginning to nod, what should happen but that a band of robbers should meet beneath that very tree in order to divide their spoils. Mr. Vinegar could hear every word said quite distinctly, and began to tremble like an aspen as he listened to the terrible deeds the thieves had done to gain their ends.
"Don't shake so!" murmured Mrs. Vinegar, half asleep. "You'll have me off the bed."
"I'm not shaking, lovey," whispered back Mr. Vinegar in a quaking voice. "It is only the wind in the trees."
But for all his cheerfulness he was not really very brave inside, so he went on trembling and shaking, and shaking and trembling, till, just as the robbers were beginning to parcel out the money, he actually shook the door right out of the tree-fork, and down it came—with Mrs. Vinegar still asleep upon it—right on top of the robbers' heads!
As you may imagine, they thought the sky had fallen, and made off as fast as their legs would carry them, leaving their booty behind them. But Mr. Vinegar, who had saved himself from the fall by clinging to a branch, was far too frightened to go down in the dark to see what had happened. So up in the tree he sate like a big bird until dawn came.
Then Mrs. Vinegar woke, rubbed her eyes, yawned, and said, "Where am I?"
"On the ground, lovey," answered Mr. Vinegar, scrambling down.
And when they lifted up the door, what do you think they found?
One robber squashed flat as a pancake, and forty golden guineas all scattered about!
My goodness! How Mr. and Mrs. Vinegar jumped for joy!
"Now, Vinegar!" said his wife when they had gathered up all the gold pieces, "I will tell you what we must do. You must go to the next market-town and buy a cow; for, see you, money makes the mare to go, truly; but it also goes itself. Now a cow won't run away, but will give us milk and butter, which we can sell. So we shall live in comfort for the rest of our days."
"What a head you have, lovey!" said Mr. Vinegar admiringly, and started off on his errand.
"Mind you make a good bargain," bawled his wife after him.
"I always do," bawled back Mr. Vinegar. "I made a good bargain when I married such a clever wife, and I made a better one when I shook her down from the tree. I am the happiest man alive!"
So he trudged on, laughing and jingling the forty gold pieces in his pocket.
Now the first thing he saw in the market was an old red cow.
"I am in luck to-day," he thought; "that is the very beast for me. I shall be the happiest of men if I get that cow." So he went up to the owner, jingling the gold in his pocket.
"What will you take for your cow?" he asked.
And the owner of the cow, seeing he was a simpleton, said, "What you've got in your pocket."
"Done!" said Mr. Vinegar, handed over the forty guineas, and led off the cow, marching her up and down the market, much against her will, to show off his bargain.
Now, as he drove it about, proud as Punch, he noticed a man who was playing the bagpipes. He was followed about by a crowd of children who danced to the music, and a perfect shower of pennies fell into his cap every time he held it out.
"Ho, ho!" thought Mr. Vinegar. "That is an easier way of earning a livelihood than by driving about a beast of a cow! Then the feeding, and the milking, and the churning! Ah, I should be the happiest man alive if I had those bagpipes!"
So he went up to the musician and said, "What will you take for your bagpipes?"
"Well," replied the musician, seeing he was a simpleton, "it is a beautiful instrument, and I make so much money by it, that I cannot take anything less than that red cow."
"Done!" cried Mr. Vinegar in a hurry, lest the man should repent of his offer.
So the musician walked off with the red cow, and Mr. Vinegar tried to play the bagpipes. But, alas and alack! though he blew till he almost burst, not a sound could he make at first, and when he did at last, it was such a terrific squeal and screech that all the children ran away frightened, and the people stopped their ears.
But he went on and on, trying to play a tune, and never earning anything, save hootings and peltings, until his fingers were almost frozen with the cold, when of course the noise he made on the bagpipes was worse than ever.
Then he noticed a man who had on a pair of warm gloves, and he said to himself, "Music is impossible when one's fingers are frozen. I believe I should be the happiest man alive if I had those gloves."
So he went up to the owner and said, "You seem, sir, to have a very good pair of gloves." And the man replied, "Truly, sir, my hands are as warm as toast this bitter November day."
That quite decided Mr. Vinegar, and he asked at once what the owner would take for them; and the owner, seeing he was a simpleton, said, "As your hands seem frozen, sir, I will, as a favour, let you have them for your bagpipes."
"Done!" cried Mr. Vinegar, delighted, and made the exchange.
Then he set off to find his wife, quite pleased with himself. "Warm hands, warm heart!" he thought. "I'm the happiest man alive!"
But as he trudged he grew very, very tired, and at last began to limp. Then he saw a man coming along the road with a stout stick.
"I should be the happiest man alive if I had that stick," he thought. "What is the use of warm hands if your feet ache!" So he said to the man with the stick, "What will you take for your stick?" and the man, seeing he was a simpleton, replied:
"Well, I don't want to part with my stick, but as you are so pressing I'll oblige you, as a friend, for those warm gloves you are wearing."
"Done for you!" cried Mr. Vinegar delightedly; and trudged off with the stick, chuckling to himself over his good bargain.
But as he went along a magpie fluttered out of the hedge and sate on a branch in front of him, and chuckled and laughed as magpies do. "What are you laughing at?" asked Mr. Vinegar.
"At you, forsooth!" chuckled the magpie, fluttering just a little further. "At you, Mr. Vinegar, you foolish man—you simpleton—you blockhead! You bought a cow for forty guineas when she wasn't worth ten, you exchanged her for bagpipes you couldn't play—you changed the bagpipes for a pair of gloves, and the pair of gloves for a miserable stick. Ho, ho! Ha, ha! So you've nothing to show for your forty guineas save a stick you might have cut in any hedge. Ah, you fool! you simpleton! you blockhead!"
And the magpie chuckled, and chuckled, and chuckled in such guffaws, fluttering from branch to branch as Mr. Vinegar trudged along, that at last he flew into a violent rage and flung his stick at the bird. And the stick stuck in a tree out of his reach; so he had to go back to his wife without anything at all.
But he was glad the stick had stuck in a tree, for Mrs. Vinegar's hands were quite hard enough.
When it was all over Mr. Vinegar said cheerfully, "You are too violent, lovey. You broke the pickle-jar, and now you've nearly broken every bone in my body. I think we had better turn over a new leaf and begin afresh. I shall take service as a gardener, and you can go as a housemaid, until we have enough money to buy a new pickle-jar. There are as good ones in the shop as ever came out of it."
And that is the story of Mr. and Mrs. Vinegar.
And that is the story of Mr. and Mrs. Vinegar.
Story DNA
Moral
Poor judgment and impulsiveness can lead to losing everything, while a practical mind can find solutions.
Plot Summary
Mr. and Mrs. Vinegar live in a glass pickle-jar until Mrs. Vinegar accidentally breaks it. They venture out to seek their fortune, and through a fortunate accident involving robbers, they acquire forty golden guineas. Mrs. Vinegar advises buying a cow, but Mr. Vinegar, a simpleton, proceeds to make a series of increasingly foolish trades in the market, exchanging the cow for bagpipes, then gloves, and finally a stick. A mocking magpie provokes him into throwing away his last possession, leaving him with nothing. The couple, having lost everything due to Mr. Vinegar's folly, decide to start anew by taking humble jobs to earn money for a new home.
Themes
Emotional Arc
comfort to ruin to temporary fortune to complete loss to new beginning
Writing Style
Narrative Elements
Cultural Context
This story is a variant of a common folk tale motif about a foolish character making a series of bad trades, often found across European cultures.
Plot Beats (14)
- Mr. and Mrs. Vinegar live in a pickle-jar house, Mr. Vinegar gardening and Mrs. Vinegar cleaning.
- Mrs. Vinegar accidentally breaks their glass house while sweeping a cobweb, leaving them homeless.
- Mr. Vinegar, ever cheerful, suggests they seek their fortune, taking the house door with them.
- They walk all day and spend the night in a tree, with Mrs. Vinegar sleeping on the door balanced by Mr. Vinegar.
- Robbers gather beneath the tree to divide their spoils; Mr. Vinegar's trembling causes the door to fall on them.
- The robbers flee, leaving behind forty golden guineas and one squashed robber.
- Mrs. Vinegar advises Mr. Vinegar to buy a cow with the money to ensure a steady income.
- Mr. Vinegar goes to market and foolishly trades the forty guineas for an old red cow.
- He then trades the cow for a bagpipe, thinking it an easier way to earn money, but cannot play it.
- He trades the bagpipes for a pair of warm gloves, as his fingers are frozen from trying to play.
- He trades the gloves for a stout stick, as his feet ache from walking.
- A magpie mocks Mr. Vinegar for his series of bad trades, calling him a fool.
- Enraged, Mr. Vinegar throws the stick at the magpie, losing it in a tree.
- He returns to his wife with nothing, and they decide to take jobs as servants to earn money for a new pickle-jar.
Characters
Mr. Vinegar ★ protagonist
A small-statured man with an unassuming build. His movements are often described as trudging, suggesting a somewhat weary but persistent gait. He is not physically imposing.
Attire: Simple, worn peasant clothing typical of 19th-century English rural folk: a plain, perhaps patched, linen or wool tunic, sturdy breeches, and well-worn leather boots. Practical and unassuming.
Wants: To provide for his wife and secure their comfort, to find fortune, and to maintain his cheerful outlook on life.
Flaw: Extreme naivety and poor judgment, easily tricked by others, overly optimistic to the point of foolishness.
Starts as a cheerful but naive man who makes a series of bad bargains. He doesn't fundamentally change his personality but learns (or is forced to learn) that his optimism alone isn't enough, leading him to seek honest work.
Cheerful, optimistic, simple-minded, easily swayed, somewhat naive, good-natured.
Image Prompt & Upload
A small adult man, facing forward, full body visible from head to toe. He has a kind, simple face with a perpetually cheerful expression, light brown hair, and gentle eyes. He wears a patched, earth-toned linen tunic, sturdy brown breeches, and worn leather boots. He carries a large, plain wooden door strapped to his back, looking slightly burdened but still smiling. Plain white background, full body visible head to toe, single figure, no watermark, no text, no signature.
Mrs. Vinegar ◆ supporting
A sharp, bustling, and strong woman. Her actions suggest a robust build and energetic demeanor, capable of both vigorous cleaning and physical reactions like falling on robbers.
Attire: Practical and sturdy peasant clothing typical of 19th-century English rural women: a simple, long-sleeved linen dress, a durable apron, and sensible, perhaps wooden, shoes. Her clothes would reflect her tidy nature, even if worn.
Wants: To maintain a clean and comfortable home, to secure financial stability, and to guide her husband towards sensible decisions.
Flaw: Short temper, prone to dramatic emotional outbursts, can be overly critical or physically aggressive when frustrated.
Starts as a tidy but temperamental woman who accidentally destroys their home. She remains practical and decisive throughout, often providing the impetus for action or sensible advice, and ends up being the one to suggest they seek honest work.
Sharp, bustling, tidy, easily frustrated, prone to strong emotional reactions (crying, anger), practical, decisive.
Image Prompt & Upload
An adult woman, facing forward, full body visible from head to toe. She has a determined, somewhat sharp face, with her light brown hair neatly pulled back from her face. She wears a practical, long-sleeved cream linen dress, a dark blue apron tied at her waist, and sturdy brown leather shoes. Her posture is upright and bustling, with a slight frown of exasperation. Plain white background, full body visible head to toe, single figure, no watermark, no text, no signature.
The Magpie ○ minor
A common magpie, known for its distinctive black and white plumage and long tail. It is agile and capable of fluttering from branch to branch.
Attire: Natural black and white feathers, typical of a magpie.
Wants: To amuse itself by observing and commenting on human folly.
Flaw: Its taunting nature provokes Mr. Vinegar's anger.
Serves as a catalyst for Mr. Vinegar's final act of frustration, leading to the loss of his last item. It does not change.
Mischievous, mocking, intelligent, observant, taunting.
Image Prompt & Upload
A magpie with glossy black and stark white feathers, perched on a bare tree branch, facing forward. Its head is slightly tilted, and its small black eyes convey a mischievous, almost laughing expression. Its long tail feathers are visible. Plain white background, full body visible head to toe, single figure, no watermark, no text, no signature.
Locations
The Glass Pickle-Jar House
A small, snug, and very light house made from a glass pickle-jar, allowing every speck of dust to show. It contains simple furniture and is kept meticulously clean by Mrs. Vinegar.
Mood: Cozy, domestic, but also fragile and prone to chaos.
Mr. and Mrs. Vinegar's initial home, where Mrs. Vinegar accidentally shatters it while cleaning.
Image Prompt & Upload
A cross-section view of a tiny, transparent glass pickle-jar, meticulously clean and furnished inside like a miniature, cozy English cottage. Sunlight streams through the glass, highlighting dust motes. A tiny, well-worn wooden broom leans against a miniature wall. Outside, a small garden with vegetables grown for pickling is visible. no border, no frame, no watermark, no text, no signature, edge-to-edge illustration.
The Garden of the Pickle-Jar House
A small garden adjacent to the pickle-jar house where Mr. Vinegar cultivates vegetables using a pickle-fork.
Mood: Simple, industrious, but quickly becomes despairing after the house is broken.
Mrs. Vinegar rushes here after breaking the house, lamenting their ruin to Mr. Vinegar.
Image Prompt & Upload
A tiny, well-tended vegetable garden patch, no larger than a dinner plate, with miniature rows of cucumbers and onions. A tiny pickle-fork is stuck in the rich, dark soil. Beyond, the shattered remains of a glass pickle-jar are scattered on the ground. Soft morning light illuminates the scene. no border, no frame, no watermark, no text, no signature, edge-to-edge illustration.
Dark, Thick Forest
A dense, shadowy forest where Mr. and Mrs. Vinegar find themselves at night. The trees are tall and thick, creating a sense of enclosure and fear.
Mood: Eerie, frightening, suspenseful, later becoming surprisingly fortunate.
Mr. and Mrs. Vinegar spend the night here, encountering robbers, leading to their unexpected fortune.
Image Prompt & Upload
A dense, ancient English forest at deep night, with gnarled oak and beech trees casting long, heavy shadows. Moonlight filters sparsely through the thick canopy, creating a dappled, mysterious gloom on the leaf-strewn forest floor. A sturdy wooden door is wedged precariously in the fork of a massive tree branch. no border, no frame, no watermark, no text, no signature, edge-to-edge illustration.
Market-Town
A bustling market square in an English market-town, filled with vendors, animals, and people. It's a lively place where goods are exchanged and entertainment is found.
Mood: Lively, chaotic, full of opportunity but also ripe for foolish bargains.
Mr. Vinegar makes a series of increasingly poor trades here, losing all his money.
Image Prompt & Upload
A bustling 18th-century English market square on a bitter November day. Cobblestone ground is visible beneath the feet of numerous vendors and shoppers. Stalls are laden with various goods. A red cow stands tethered, while a bagpiper plays to a small crowd of children. The sky is overcast and grey, and the air feels crisp and cold. no border, no frame, no watermark, no text, no signature, edge-to-edge illustration.
