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G. L. GOMME, F.S.A., 2, Park Villas, Lonsdale Road, Barnes. 





G. L. GOMME, F.S.A. 






South Scotland : WILLIAM GEORGE BLACK, Esq. 
North Scotland : Rev. WALTER GREGOR. 
INDIA: Captain R. C. TEMPLE. 


A. GRANGER HUTT, F.S.A., 8, Oxford Road, Kilburn, N.W. 

J. J. FOSTER, 36, Alma Square, St. John's Wood, N.W. 



Burne (Charlotte S.) Classification of Folk-Lore - - 158 

• Herefordshire Notes - - - - 163 

Songs ------ 259 

^- > Guisers' Play, Songs, and Rhymes, 

from Staffordshire - - - - - - -350 

Courtney (M. A.) Cornish Feasts and " Feasten" Customs 109, 221 

Fight of the Witches 1 

Folk-Tales, Tabulation of ------- 80 

Gardner (C.) Folk-Lore in Mongolia - - - - 18 

Gregor (Rev. W.) Some Folk-Lore of the Sea - - - 7 

Children's Amusements - _ - 132 

Hartland (E. Sidney). The Outcast Child - - - - 308 

Kinahan (G. H.) Donegal Sujierstitions - - - - 255 

Legends of St. Columbkille of Gartan - 360 

Local Greek Myths - - 250 

Martinengo-Cesaresco (Countess) A Story of the Koh-i-Nur 252 

Morris (Rev. Dr. Richard). Folk-Tales of India - - 45, 168 

Notes and Queries - 182, 265, 363 

Notices of Books - - - - - - - - 89 

Notices and News - - - - - - - 185, 267, 365 

Rowell (G. A.) Notes on some Old-fashioned English Customs 97 


Folk-Lore as the Complement of 


Stuart-Glennie (J. S.) Principles of the Classification of Folk- 

Lorc _-_____-_ 75 

Culture-Lore in the Study of History - - - - 213 

Tabulation of Folk-Tales ------- 80 

Temple (Capt. K. C.) The Science of Folk-Lore, with Tables 

of Spirit Basis of Belief and Custom - - - - 193 

• Bibliography of Folk-Lore - - 273 

Wake (C. Staniland). Philosophy of Folk-Tales - - - 63 


[Translated from the oral original of the Pussamaquaddy dialect, by 
Abby Langdon Alger.] 

ANY, many long years ago, there dwelt in a vast cave 
in the interior of a great mountain, an old man who was 
a '*Kiawahq' mteoulm," or a Giant Witch. 

Near the mountain was a big Indian village, whose 
chief was named " Hassagwahq','' or the Striped Squirrel. Every 
few days some of his best warriors mysteriously disappeared from 
the tribe, until Hassagwahq' became convinced that they were killed 
by the Giant Witch . He therefore called a council of all the most 
powerful magicians among his followers, who gathered together in a 
new, strong wigwam made for the occasion. There were ten of them 
in all, and their names were as follows: — " Quabit," the Beaver; 
" Mosque," the Wood-worm; " Quagsis," the Fox; *' K'tchi Atosis," 
the Big Snake; *'Agwem," the Loon; *' Kasq','' the Heron; *' Muin," 
the Bear ; *' Lox," the Indian Devil; K'tchiplagan," the Eagle; and 
" Wabekeloch,^' the Wild Goose. 

The great chief Hassagwahq' addressed the sorcerers, and told 
them that he hoped they might be able to conquer the Giant Witch, 
and that they must do so at once if possible, or else his tribe would 
be exterminated. The sorcerers resolved to begin the battle the very 
next night, and to put forth their utmost power to destroy their enemy. 

But the Giant Witch could foretell all his troubles by his dreams, 
and on that self-same night he dreamed of all the plans which the 
followers of Striped Squirrel had formed for his ruin. 

Vol. 4.— Part 1. b 


Now all Indian witclies have one or more "poohegans," or guardian 
spirits, and the Giant Witch at once despatched one of his poohegans, 
" Little Allum-oosett," the Humming-bird, to the chief Hassa- 
gwahq', to say that it would not be fair to send ten men to fight 
one; but if he would send one magician at a time he would be pleased 
to meet them. 

The chief replied that the witches should meet him in battle one by 
one ; and the next night they gathered together at an appointed 
place as soon as the sun slept, and it was agreed that Beaver should 
be the first to fight. 

The Beaver had ** Sogalun " or "Rain," for his guardian spirit, 
and he caused a great flood to fall and fill up the cave of the Giant 
Witch, hoping thus to drown him. But the Giant Witch had the 
power to change himself into a " Segnapp Squ' Hm," or Lamprey 
Eel, and in this shape he clung to the side of his cave, and so 

The Beaver, thinking that the foe was drowned, swam into the 
cavern, and was caught in a " k'pagutihigan," or beaver-trap, which 
the Giant Witch had purposely set for him. Thus Beaver, the first 
magician, perished. 

The next to try his strength was "Mosque," or the "Wood- worm," 
whose poohegan is " Fire." 

The " Wood-worm " told him that he would bore a hole into the 
cave that night, and bade him enter it next day and burn up the foe. 
He went to work, and with his sharp head, and by wriggling and 
winding himself about like a screw, he soon made a deep hole in the 
side of the mountain. But the Giant Witch knew very well what was 
going on, and he sent the " Humming-bird " with a piece of '^ chee- 
qwa-qu'-seque," or punk, to plug up the hole, which he did so well 
that the " Wood-worm " could not make his way back to the open 
air, and when Fire came to carry out his orders the punk blazed up 
and destroyed " Mosque " or the " Wood-worm," and thus perished 
the second sorcerer. 

The next to fight was " K'tchl Atosis," the " Big Snake," who had 
" Amwess," the " Bee," for his poohegan. The Bee summoned all 
his winged followers, and they entered the cave in a body, swarming 



all over the Giant Witch and stinging him till he roared with pain; 
but he sent " Humming-bird " to gather a quantity of birch-bark, 
which he set on fire, making a dense smoke which stifled all the 

After waiting some time, the " Big Snake " went into the cave to 
see if the Bees had killed his enemy ; but he was speedily caught in 
a dead fall which the Giant Witch had prepared for him, and thus 
perished the third witch. 

The great chief, Hassagwahq', was now much distressed at 
having lost three of his mightiest magicians without accomplishing 
anything, but, however, seven more still remained. 

The next witch to fight was " Quagsis," the " Fox," his poohegan 
being " K'slnochka," or *' Disease," and ho commanded him to afflict 
the foe with all manner of evils. He was soon covered with boils and 
sores, and every part of his body was filled with aches and pains. 
But he dispatched his guardian spirit, the " Humming-bird," to 
'' Quiliphirt," the God of Medicine, who gave him the plant " Ki- 
kaywih-bisun," * and as soon as it was administered unto him he was 
immediately cured of all his ills. 

The next to enter the list was " x\gwem," the " Loon," whose 
poohegan was " T'kayon," or " Cold." Soon the mountain was 
*^vered with snow and ice, the cave was filled with cold blasts of 
wind, the frost split the trees and cracked asunder the huge rocks. 
The Giant Witch suffered horribly, but did not yield. He tried his 
magic-stone, and heated it red-hot, but so intense was the cold that 
it lost its power and could not help him. 

Allumovset's wings were frozen and he could not fly on any more 
errands, but another of the master's spirits, " Lithustragan," or 

* This plant is much used by a tribe of Indians in Lower California, who are 
said to live to a great age, 180 years being no uncommon term of life among 
them. Among our own Indians it is not now known to exist. It grew like 
green com, about two feet high, and was always in motion, even when boiling in 
the pot. It gave to him who drank it great length of life. Lewy Mitchell's 
mother received it from an Indian who wished to marry, and to whom she gave 
in return enough goods to set up housekeeping. She divided it with her four 
sisters, but on their death no trace of it was found. 



'' Tiioiight," went like a flash to " Suwesseii," the south wind, and 
begged him to come to the rescue. 

Luckily the warm south wind began to blow around the mountain, 
and the cold was forced to vanish from the scene. 

The next to try his fate was " Kasq," the '^ Heron," whose guardian 
spirit was " Chenco," or the giant with the heart of ice, who quickly 
went to work with his big stone hatchet, chopped down trees, tore up 
rocks, and began to hew a great hole in the side of the mountain, but 
the Giant "Witch now for the first time let loose his terrible dog 
" M'dassmuss," who barked so loudly and attacked Chenco so fiercely 
that he was driven away in alarm. 

The next warrior was " Muin," the " Bear," whose poohegans were 
" Petargun," or " Thunder," and " Pessarquessok," or " Lightning." 
Soon a tremendous thunderstorm arose which shook the whole moun- 
tain, and a thunderbolt split the mouth of the cave in twain : the 
lightning flashed into the cavern and nearly blinded the Giant Witch, 
who was now terribly frightened for the first time. He yelled aloud 
with pain, for he was badly burned by the lightning. The thunder and 
lightning redoubled their fury, and filled the place with fire, much i 
alarming the foe, who hastily bade " Humming-bird" go and summon 
" Haplebembo," the big "bull-frog," to his aid. The "bull-frog" 
soon appeared, and spat out his huge mouth full of water, which 
nearly filled the cave, quenching the fire and driving away Thunder 
and Lightning. 

The next to fight was " Lox," the " Indian Devil." Now '' Lox" was 
always a coward, and when he heard of the misfortunes of his friends 
he cut off one of his big toes, and when " Striped Squirrel " called him 
to begin the battle he excused himself, saying that he was lame and 
could not go. 

Next in order came " K'tchiplagan," the " Eagle," whose poohe- 
gan was " Applausumbressit," the " Whirlwind." When he entered 
the enemy's abode in all his fury and frenzy and noise, the Giant Witch 
awoke from sleep, and instantly " K'plamusiike " lost his breath and 
was unable to speak, but he made signs to the *' Humming-bird" to go 
for " Culloo," the lord of all great birds, but the whirlwind was so 


strong that '* Humming-bird " could not get out of the cave, but was 
beaten back again and again. Therefore the Giant Witch bade 
" Thought" summon " Culloo." In an instant the great bird was at 
his side, and made such a strong wind with his wings at the mouth of 
the cave that the power of the whirlwind was destroyed. 

Hassagwahq' now began to despair, for but one witch remained to 
carry on the contest, and that was •' Wabekeloch," the " Wild Goose," 
who was very quiet, though a clever fellow, never quarreling with 
any one, and not regarded as a powerful warrior. But the great chief 
had a dream in which he saw a monstrous giant standing at the mouth 
of the enemy's cave. He was so tall that he reached from the earth 
to the sky, and he said that all that was needful to destroy the foe 
was to let some young woman entice him out from his lair, when he 
would at once lose his magical power and might readily be slain. 

The chief repeated this dream to *' Wabekeloch," ordering him to 
obey the words of the giant whom he had seen. The " Wild Goose's " 
poohegan was " Mikumcress," a " fairy," who speedily took the shape 
of a beautiful young woman and went to the mouth of the cave, where 
he climbed into a tall hemlock tree, singing this song as he mounted : 

" Come to me, young man, 
Come listen to my song, 
Come out this lovely night. 
Come out on this fair mount. 
Come, see the leaves so red, 
Come, breathe the air so pure." 

The Giant Witch heard the voice, and coming to the mouth of the 
cave he was so fascinated by the music that he left his home and saw 
a most lovely girl sitting among the branches of a tree. She said to 
him: "W'litt hoddm'n, natchi pen equlin w'liketnqu'hemus," — 
" Please, kind old man, help me down from this tree." As soon as he 
approached her, Gluskap, the great king of all men, sprang from 
behind the tree, threw his stone hatchet or " timhegen" at him, and 
split his head open. Then, addressing him, Gluskap said : " You 
have been a wicked witch, and have destroyed many of the chief 


Hassagwahq's best warriors. Now speak yet once again and tell 
what you have done with the bones of yoar victims." The Giant Witch 
replied that in the hollow of the mountain might be found a vast heap 
of human bones, which was all that remained of what was once the 
noblest warriors of Striped Squirrel's time. 

When he was dead, Gluskap summoned all the beasts of the forest 
and all the birds of the air to assemble and devour the body of the 
Giant Witch. 

Then Gluskap ordered the beasts to go into the cave and bring 
forth the bones of the dead warriors, which they did. He next com- 
manded the birds to take each a bone in his beak and pile them 
together at the village of Hassagwahq'. 

He then directed that chief to build a wall of large ' stones around 
the heap of bones, to cover them with wood and make " equnak'n," or 
a hot bath. 

Then Gluskap set the wood on fire, and began to sing his magic 
song : soon he bade the people heap more wood upon'the^fire, and pour 
water on the heated stones. He sang louder and louder and faster 
and faster until his voice shook the whole village, and he ordered the 
people to stop their ears lest his voice should kill them. Then he 
redoubled his singing, and the bones began to move with the heat, and 
to sizzle and smoke and give forth a strange sound. Then Gluskap 
sang his resurrection song in a low tone : at last the bones began to 
chant with him ; he sprinkled on more water and the bones came 
together in their natural order and became living human beings once 

The people were amazed with astonishment at Gluskap's power, and 
the great chief Hassagwahq' gathered together all the neighbouring 
tribes and celebrated the marvellous event with the resurrection feast, 
which endured for many days, and the tribe of chief Hassagwahq' were 
never troubled by evil witches for ever afterwards. 


By the Rev. Walter Gregor. 

AINT ELMO'S Light is called Covenanter, or Covie's 
Aunt, in Portessie; Fiery Cock, in Crovie ; Jack-o'- 
lanteni, in Nairn ; Jack's lantern, in Findoclity. When 
it appears, some fishermen fancy that they will never get 
to land, or that some disaster will fall upon them. (Portessie). Some 
think that the death of one of the relatives of the crew is not far off, 
and that the light is the ghost or spirit.* (Nairn.) 

The phosphorescence of the sea goes in Nairn by the names of 
** burnin wattir " and " fiery wattir."t 

When it Begins to appear on the sea, a Nairn fisherman would say: 
" The sea's firin " ; and when at the herring-fishing, before casting 
the nets, " Wait till the wattir fires." 

The dulness that appears in the sea during the month of May is 
spoken of as " the easterly wattir"; and the fishermen say, " The sea's 
alive wi' the livin breed," or, " The sea's alive wi' the livin vermin." | 

The Storm. 

In Buckie and the neighbouring villages the sound of the sea 
coming from the west bears the name of " the chant fae (from) the 
saans (sands) o' Spey," and is regarded as a token of good weather. 
The Nairn folks call this wind from the west " the sooch (cA guttural) 
o' the sea," and regard it as a forecast of fine weather. § 

♦ ^rjfjiuSeiQ fjLETEbjpoXoyiKoi MvOoi, by N. G. Polites, p. 14. 

f Folk-Lore Journal^ vol. iii, pp. 53, 306. 

I Tbid. vol. iii. p. 306. 

§ Ibid. vol. iii. p. 54. 


At Portessie and along the shore of the Moray Fh*th, on the Banff 
and Morayshire coasts, before a storm from the north or north-east, 
the sea becomes perfectly calm, " like a beiik (book) leaf," as my 
informant expressed it, and the phenomenon is called a ''weather 

The swell before the storm is called " the win-chap.''* (Portessie.) 
The broken water on the shore goes by the name of " the breach." 
(Nairn.) When the waves are heavy at the month of the harbour 
(Nairn), so that the boats cannot go to sea, the fishermen say^ 
" There's ower muckle sea-gate." 

The fisher folks of Portessie say that the sea before any disaster of 
drowning has " a waichty (weighty) melody," '' a dead groan," or 
simply " a groan." In Nairn they speak of " a waichty groan " before 
any fatality takes placet 

In Portessie and Buckie the belief exists that the sea cannot become 
calm till the body of the drowned that is destined to be buried has 
been found ; — in the words of my informant, "gehn (if) the body is t' 
get cirsent meels (consecrated ground), the sea's never at rist (rest) 
till the body's ashore." 

Said a Portessie fisherman : " We were going to Beauly with fish 
and oil. The wind came down strong against us, and we had to go 
into Burghead. We lay there for two days, with the wind always 
a-head. There was a queer woman in Forres, and we did not know 
whether the woman, in whose house we were, sent for her or not, but 
she came into the house. She asked us what we were doing here. 
We told her. She said we would be in Beauly in two hours. We 
went out, and, though the wind was against us when the woman came 
in, found it had changed in our favour. We put out at once, and 
in two hours we were in Beauly." 

" We were in Potmahomack once. A woman there baked a 
bannock, and gave it to one of the crew, with strict orders not to 
break it till he reached home, in order to get a * roon win'.' The 
bannock was carefully rolled in a napkin, and put into his breast. In 

♦ I'olh-Lore Journal, vol. iii. pp. 53, 306. 
t lUd. vol. iii. pp. 53, 54, 306. 


climbing up a rope into the boat — ' brecstin' the boat ' — the bannock 
was broken. The wind was quite favourable when the boat set sail, 
but in a short time a heavy breeze came down, and home was reached 
after the greatest difficulty." 

" On another occasion," said he, " we got a piece of twine with 
three knots upon it. One knot was to be loosed when the sail was 
hoisted. The second was to be loosed after a time to freshen the 
wind. All went well for a time, but after a little it fell 'breath- 
calm.* 'J'he third knot was loosed, but hardly was this done when a 
storm burst upon us, and we hardly escaped with the life." 

A fisherman of Banff was at one time in Invergordon. When 
there, he showed some kindness to a woman by giving her fish. When 
the boat was about to return, the woman presented herself, and gave 
the fishermen a bottle with strict orders not to uncork it till they 
reached harbour at home. Curiosity, however, overcame all fears, 
and the boat had not half accomplished the voyage when the bottle 
was unstopped. In the course of a short time a breeze burst upon 
the boat, and it was with the utmost difficulty land was reached. 
(Told by J. R., Rosehearty.) 

The Tide. 

When the tide is running on the parts of the sea between the 
shallows and the deeps there is commonly a good deal of swell, and, 
if the weather is in the least rough, great care must be taken in 
passing through this swell. It is called " the tripple o' tide." 

When the tide is lowest it is called ** slack tide " (Findochty), and 
the point of time is called *' the slack o' the tide." 

At Portessie the fisher folks do not begin any piece of work, such 
as barking nets, baiting lines, &c., except when the tide is " flouwin." 
As my informant said to me, " I pit on the barkin pan fin the tide 
begins t' flouw." * 

Hens must be set when the tide is flowing. The chickens are 
stronger, and thrive better. (Buckie.) 

♦ Folk- Lore Jonrnal, vol. ii. p. 356. 


In parts of the West Highlands the fisher folks build rough stone- 
dykes across the mouths of the small inlets, so as to form convenient 
places for keeping crabs and lobsters alive. My informant said he 
has often seated himself on a dyke and watched the conduct of the 
prisoners, and the moment the water of the rising tide entered through 
the stones they were in motion to meet it. 

Here is a theory of the movements of the herring. When the tide 
begins to rise, the herrings that were lying at the bottom rise, and 
are carried southward with the flowing tide. When the tide begins 
to ebb, the herrings again go to the bottom, and lie till the tide begins 
to flow, when they again rise, and are carried farther southward. This 
accounts for the southern migration of the herring. (Findochty.) 

The Boat. 

Some boats are supposed to be unlucky, *' have an unlucky spehl in 
them." I heard of a carpenter, now dead, that pretended to forecast 
what the fortune of the boat would be by the way a certain " spehl," 
or chip of wood, came off when he began the work of building. 

Fishermen (Nairn) speak of "he-wood" and " she-wood," and they 
say that a boat built of " she-wood " sails faster during night than 
during day. They believe that one built of " stealt " (stolen) wood 
does the same. " A thief goes fast at night," said my informant. 

To secure luck in fishing, the owner's wife must, when the boat is 
tarred, put on the first mop of tar. (Porthnockie.) 

The boat has always to be turned, when in harbour, according to 
the course of the sun. The phrase in Buckie is: "Pit the boat's head 
wast aboot " (west about).* 

When a new boat was to be brought home (Crovie), those, that were 
to do so, set out when the tide was "flouwin." When the boat arrived, 
the village turned out to meet her, and bread and cheese, with beer 
or whiskey, were given to all. A glass, with spirits or beer, was 
broken on the boat, and a wish for success was expressed in such form 

» lolh-Lore of the North-Emt of Scotland, p. 199. 


as : " I wiss (wisli) this ane may gyang (go) as lang safe oot and in, 
an catcli as mony fish as the anl' ane." 

It is accounted unlucky to go for a new boat, and come back with- 
out lier. J. Watt, of Crovie, went to Pennan for a new boat. She 
was not finished, and he had to return empty-handed. He went for 
her some time after, and brought her home on Saturday. On Monday, 
Tuesday, and Wednesday, he proceeded to the fishing, and everything 
went right. But there was something that had to be remedied about 
the sail. The boat had to be taken to Macduff for this purpose. On 
Friday the journey was undertaken. When off Gamrie Mohr, a high 
headland, a gust of wind came down, and sank the boat. One man 
was drowned. The boat was afterwards recovered, but she had to be 
sold, as the crew would not go to sea in her. She proved a good sea- 
worthy craft. The gusts off this headland go by the name of the 
" flans o' Mohr," and are accounted more dangerous than the gusts 
or '• flans " off the other headlands. (Flan, a gust of wind from 

When the new boat was brought home (Portessie), the fisher folks 
assembled beside the boat. One of them " flang here in ower the boat, 
sang oot the boat's name, and three cheers wiz geen (given)." Then 
followed the " boat fehst " (feast) — bread, cheese, whiskey, or porter, 
or a dinner of broth, beef, &c., accompanied with quantities of whiskey. 
At this feast attended often all the men of the village, if small, and 
each set of men sat together. In each of the large fishing boats 
there are eight men besides the skipper. Each man has his own seat 
in rowing, and always keeps it. Counting from the stem, the first 
man on the left is called "the aivran hank," or '' hanksman," whilst 
his companion on the right is called "the farran hank," or ''hanks- 
man." The second two go by the names of " the aivran mid-ship " 
and " the fan*an mid-ship." The third pair has the names of " the 
aivran slip " and " the farran slip " ; and the fourth, those of '* the 
aivran boo " and " the farran boo." The master is " the skipper." 
At the feast all the skippers sat together, all the " aivran banksmen," 
or " aivran hanks," sat together, and so on with the others. The 
drinking was often carried far into the night, and even into the 
morning. A common toast was, " I wis you may burn *er." 


A toast, frequently used at feasts and drinking bouts, was: 

" Health t' men, an death t' fish, 
They're waggin their tails, it'll pay for this." 

The Line. 

When a new line was to be made by a few neighbours, it had to be 
begun when the tide was rising, and finished without any interruption, 
so that all might have a share in the " allooance," that is, the whiskey 
that was drunk for luck, on completion of the work. (Crovie.) 

In Portessie, Buckie, and other villages, the first one that enters 
the house when a "greatlin" — a great line, that is, a line for catching 
cod, ling, skate, and the larger kinds of fish — is being made, has to 
pay for a mutchkin of whiskey, which is drunk in the house after the 
line is finished. " The line gets the first glass," that is, the first 
glassful is poured over the line. 

A story is current that an old fisherman, who was somewhat fond 
of " a dram," had very often a new great line — " ane in the month,' 
ths explanation of which was, that he kept one by him, and, when he 
was anxious for a glass, he took out his new line, so that, when a 
neighbour came in, he was busy measuring it off, and working at it. 
His ''teename" was Old Pro.* 

The first hook baited is spit upon, and then laid in the scull. My 
informant told me that she invariably followed this practice. She 
also told me that it is a custom to spit in the fire when the ''girdle" 
is taken off the fire when the baking of the bread, oaten cakes, is 

The Good and the III Fit, &c. 

If one with an " ill fit" was met when going to the boat to proceed 
to sea, there were some that would not have gone till the next tide had 
flowed. (Buckie.) 

There were some that, if they had met one who asked them on their 
way to the sea where they were going, would have struck the one so 

• Folk-Lore Journal^ vol. iii. p. 307. 


asking " to draw blood," and thus turn away the ill hick that was 
believed (Portessie) to follow such a question. 

A person with flat-soled feet is looked upon as an " unlucky fit." 

It is a notion among some that if you see below one having an "ill 
fit," no harm will follow. One morning a Spey salmon-fisher said to his 
companion on meeting him to proceed to their work, that he had met 
a certain man well known as having an " ill fit." " We'll hae naething 
the day, than." " Oh, bit he wiz ridin, an I saw through aneth 
(below) the horse- belly," was the answer. 

Another mode of counteracting the evil of an " ill fit " is to have 
" the first word o' the one that has the evil power," that is, to be the 

first to speak. An old woman of the name of P lived in Fraser- 

burg. She had the repute of having an ** ill fit," and fishermen did 
not like to meet her. She kept a cow or two. and pastured them 
along the sides of the public roads, and no one that passed along the 
roads ever could have " the first word on her " She made it a point 
of being the first to speak. (Told by a Pittulie fisherman.) 

As some people are looked upon as having an " ill fit," others are 
regarded as carrying luck with them. Such as have led an immoral 
life, whether man or woman, are those that bring success, and the 
name of such a one is used as a talisman. Thus (Buckie) when 
beginning to shoot the lines one of the crew will say, *' We'll try in 

's name for luck." When the line, on being hauled, sticks on the 

bottom, it is said, " Up, or rise ." Sometime ago, the name of 

Maggie Bowie, an old woman, was frequently used. (Portessie.) In 
Buckie a talisman was " Nelltock," the famihar name of a well-known 
woman, and the saying was, " Blow up, Nelltock." 

The cat, the rat, the hare, and the salmon are all bringers of ill- 
luck, and the words were never uttered during the time the lines were 
being baited. (Crovie.) 

To meet the cat in the morning as the ** first fit " was the sure fore- 
runner of disaster that day. 

A. R , of Crovie, did not leave his bed in the morning without 

calling out " Hish, hish, hish," to drive away the house cat, lest it 
might be lying near, and thus be his " first fit." 


A fisherman will not keep a pig for feeding (Buckie), and the 
word pig or swine, as well as rottin (rot), salmon, which is commonly 
called "the fool (foul) beest," hare, and rabbit, are words of ill- 
omen. (Buckie.)* 

It is unlucky to catch a sea-gull (" a goo ") when out fishing, and 
keep it on board. My informant told me that one day he caught a 
gull, with the intention of bringing it ashore to his boy. One of the 
old men in the boat, in very strong language, ordered him to set it 
adrift, which was done at once. (Portessie.) 

W. W. of Crovie, had gone to the AVest Highlands to prosecute 
the cod and ling fishing. The first time the boat went to the fishing- 
ground the first fish that came up on the line was a ling. The skipper 
at once ordered it to be thrown overboard, as being unlucky to have a 
ling for the first fish caught. 

The " scull," which holds the lines, must not be overturned in the 
boat after they have been shot. It is unlucky to do so. (Crovie.) 
A poor " shot " (catch) of fish is supposed to follow. (Nairn.) It is 
accounted unlucky to put the foot by accident into the scull (" the 
scoo") after the lines have been thrown. (Nairn.) 

It is unlucky to have a rat on board a boat unless it is caught, and 
killed. The drawing of blood counteracts the bad luck. (Buckie.) 

During the herring-fishing of 1885 a rat appeared in the boat of a 
Crovie fisherman fishing in Rosehearty. A hunt for the animal was 
made, and it was caught. The fisherman mentioned the fact on 
returning to his house, when one of the women said, " Ye'll be sure 
o' a boat fu' the first time ye gyang oot." Another said, " That's az 
gueede's (as good's) three hunner (300) cran." 

Two Crovie boats were, one spring not long ago, fishing in S. Uist. 
In the boat of one was caught a rat. The skipper of the other boat 
made the remark, '^ This winna (will not) be a rich year fahtever 
(whatever), for we hinna gotten a beastie." 

The Herring Fishing. 
In Portessie and other neighbouring villages white stones are 

* Folk-Lore Journal^ vol. iii. p. 182. 


rejected both as ballast and as lug-stones for the herring-nets ; but in 
Portessie a " boret-stone," that is a stone bored by the pholas, is 
looked upon as particularly lucky for ballast.* 

It is accounted very unlucky to take a stone of the ballast from 
another man's boat, and, if one did so, he would be resisted. Neither 
would one allow a '« waicht " (weight) of a herring-net to be taken 
away. These weights, used for sinking the nets, are small stones tied 
to the lower side of the net. A man had to cross his neighbour's 
boat to reach his own. In doing so he lifted a weight to use as a 
hammer to drive a nail in a part of his own boat. He intended to 
restore the stone ; but the owner, in very surly fashion, ordered him 
at once to lay it down. The luck of the fishing was supposed to go 
with the stone. (Nairn.) 

Some will not give away a " fry o' herrin," that is, a few herrings 
as a dish. The luck of the fishing goes with them. (Nairn.) 

If one of the crew makes his water over the boat's side before 
casting the nets, the boat would have been brought back at once with- 
out the nets having been shot. (Porthnockie.) 

When the herring fishing was going on in a poor way, in the 
words of the fisherman that told me — " Fin we wiz jist driven t' 
desperation," he would say, *' Wife, for God's sake, turn your 
sark ! " (Portessie.) 

Another mode to get herring is to put the boat through the ** main 
riggan." My informant said that a friend of his told him he once 
tried this " fret," and lost his '* main riggan." 

Another mode of securing herring is the following : — The " tail 
bow " (buoy) — that is, the buoy fixed to the net thrown first over- 
board, and, therefore, the farthest from the boat when the whole of 
the nets — " the fleet " — are overboard, — is cut off in the name of some 
one reputed as carrying luck. For example, a fisherman of Portessie 
would say, before beginning to cast the nets, " Cut aff the tail bow 
in Meggie Bowie's name," to bring the fish into the nets. 

J. Watt was engaged in the herring fishing at Gardenston. He 
was not at all successful, and for over a week had caught nothing 

* Folk-Lore Journal, vol. iii. p. 308. 


One evening as lie was proceeding to sea " raitlier hingen-heedit '* 
(with hanging head), the woman in whose house he was lodging, 
without saying a word to him, threw the beesom (the broom) after 
him. That night a good fishing was made. J. Watt told one of the 
crew (a hired man) what had been done. His remark was : " That's 
fat (what) did it. Tell 'er t' dee 't (do it) again. (Crovie.) 

The same custom holds round the coast. 

Another custom to secure a fishing, if it is poor during the herring 
season, is to throw a handful of salt after the skipper, or any of the 
crew, as he is leaving the house, or to throw salt over the boat. 

The Haddock, &c. 

The black spots on the shoulders of the haddock are called Peter's 
spots, and it is believed by some fishermen (Crovie) that no one can 
grasp and hold the fish in the same way. My informant told me he 
had often tried to do so, and seen others do the same, but to no 
purpose. The fish slipped from the fingers. 

Here are two variants of the haddock rhyme :— 

" Roast me weel, an boil me weel, 
Bit dinna burn ma beens, 
Than ye' 11 never wint me aboot yir hearth-steens." 


" Roast me an boil me weel, 
An dinna bum ma beens, 
An a'll come t' yir fireside aftner nor eens (once)."* (Portessie.) 

Here follows something of a contest between the herring and the 
flounder or fleuk: — 

The herrin' said she wiz the king o' the sea, but the fleuk turnt 
her moo, an' said she wis 't. 


" She thrawd her moo, says she, 
Faht (what) am I tee, 
Fin (when) the herrin's the king o' the sea ? " (Portessie.) 

♦ Folk-Lore Journal^ vol. iii. pp. 183, 310. 


It is believed that there is a " beest i' the sea for ilky beest o' the 
laan *' (land), said a Portessie man to me.* 

It was a custom to go to the sea, and draw a pailful of water, and 
take it along with a little seaweed to the house on the morning of 
New Year's Day. (Portessie.) 

Dog Stories. 

A fisherman in Crovie had a collie dog. He was always at hand 
when the boats were putting to sea. One morning when the men 
were on the beach making ready to go to the fishing, the dog got into 
a great state of excitement, rushed about, and laid hold of the men 
when putting the lines into the boats. His conduct was such, that 
the men did not go to sea. Scarcely had they got their lines back to 
their houses, than a great storm suddenly burst oyer the Firth. 
Several boats were lost from the other villages. 

On another occasion, the owner of the dog was going with his boat 
to the south to sell his dried cod and ling. The dog was to be taken 
along with him. The boat was to sail from Gardenstone, another 
village about a mile distant. It was with the utmost difficulty the 
dog could be induced to follow his master. But no sooner did he 
reach the boat, than he bolted, and ran back, rushed into the house, 
and hid under one of the beds. He was taken by force from his 
hiding-place, and carried to the boat. The voyage was performed, 
and the boat was returning, and had come as far north as Stone- 
haven, when a heavy storm came down, the boat was driven ashore in 
the early morning, and two of the crew perished. The third one 
escaped through the intervention of the dog. He had become en- 
tangled about the wreck, and could not free himself. The dog ran 
to the town, went up to the first man he met, began barking and 
pulling at him in such a way as to arouse his attention. Off the 
dog went. The man followed, and soon saw what had happened. 
The fisherman was rescued. This took place many years ago, but the 
dog still lives in the memory of the fisher folks. 

* t oik- Lore Journal^ vol. iii. p. 183. 

Vol. 4. — Part I. c 



{Continued from vol. in. page 328.) 

14. The Cuckoo. 

N one house were two maidens. The elder married ; a 
horse of the brother-in-law was lost ; the younger sister 
— that is, his sister-in-law — (Balduiz in Kirghis) went 
forth to look for it and lost herself. Now she only 
screeches " At djok (there's no horse) kukuk ! " When she started 
on the search she wore on one foot her own black shoe, on the other 
foot the shoe of her brother-in-law, which was made of red felt (bal- 
garui). — (The same as No. 13. See Folk-Lore Journal for October 

15. The Bee. 

The king of the birds, ELhan Garude, sent two birds, Uran sheba 
(the Messenger of Poland*) and Khatuin-Kharatse, or Altuin 
Kharatse (the swallow), and the bee, to dine upon the earth and find 
out whose flesh was best eating. On their return they met 
Bur khan ; f he asked them whose flesh is best to eat ? They 
replied, " Human flesh." Bur khan, to save man, persuaded them 
not to tell the bird Khan Garude. The birds agreed ; but not 
believing that the bee would keep silence they cut out her tongue. 

When they flew up, the first said to Khan Garude that the most 
delicious flesh was the snake's, for so Bur khan had advised them to 
say. The bee then flew up ; but to the question of Garude she 

* " Messenger of Poland," ^githalus Pendulinus. (Potanin.) 
t Bur khan, king of the storm. (C.T.G.) 


could only give out an unintelligible buzzing. — (Dorchke, a Khalka 
man of the Baru tribe from the mouth of the Orkhon River.) 

16. The Messenger of Poland Bird and the Snake. 

Formerly there was war between the Messenger of Poland and the 
snake (Djelan Kurkul taiga Uch buladui). The snake's young ate 
the commander of the Messenger of Poland (Kurkulgai duin 
tiurenui). After this the Messenger of Poland (Kurkulgai) built 
his nest over the water on the end of a branch. — (Sier Bai, a Kirghis 
of Tarbagatai.) 

In former times the snake was crooked, and destroyed much people 
and animals ; the Messenger of Poland, out of fright, built herself a 
nest over the water and hid herself. A priest came to the land and 
met a man. " Whither goest thou ? " asked he him. " To complain 
to God," replied he, '* of the snake who destroys men and animals." 
The priest said, " I will overcome her by fraud." Then the priest 
went to the snake, and said : " If thou wishest, snake, I will 
make thee straight — thou shalt run still faster." The snake agreed ; 
the priest pressed her under a press, and drew her out under a sickle. 
From this time she became straight, slippery, and without strength. — 
(Raes, a Kirghis of Chubaraigir, clan of Tarbagatai.) 

17. OLBe * Letyaga. 
Not only was it no sin to kill Letyaga, but, by his death, fortune 
came to the sky itself. In grey antiquity the son of the sky came 
upon the earth ; him Olbe saw. God's son slept under a tree. Then 
Gibe bit through his throat. Therefore, a Mongol deems it a good 
deed to slay Olbe and hang him upon a tree. The sky destroyed 
Olbe with thundering lightning "f and now, whenever a storm rages 
on the earth, the thunder-stroke is directed to that quarter where sits 
Olbe. J — (Tabuin Sakhal, a Shaman of the Mongol Uryankhait race, 
in the Altai mountains.) 

* Olbe, giant. (Potanin.) 

t M. Potanin, in a note, adds : " The Russian peasants believe the lightning 
strikes the Pulsatilla patens because Satan hid himself behind that plant when 
God ordered Michael to drive him from heaven." 

t i.e. towards the trees. (C.T.G.) 

c 2 


To slay Gibe is considered a meritorious action. If slain, Olbe 
people take courage, and form a cross from his hide which they place 
at the junction of two roads, and fasten it to the ground with nails. — 
(Sambo, of the Tabuin Khotoghait tribe on the lake Sanghin Dalai.) 

18. Short sayings about Animals. 

" The wicked magpie pecks the back, 
But the Shabe tea decoction." — 

(A Khalka man.) 

Abta Kherem, in winter, lives by the water like a bird ; but in 
summer changes himself into a mouse. — (A Uryankhait in Cobdo.) 

The animal " Crongo " has only one horn on the head. — (Same as 

The flying mouse does not carry taxes and fines to the Khan Gared, 
the king of the birds ; the other birds all do. — (Tabuin Sakhal, a 
Mongol Uryankhait Shaman, in the Altai mountains.) 

19. Accounts of the oeigins of Nations. 

In ancient times the Diurbiuts had no khan ; ten men wished to 
have a khan ; they saw in a dream that of the tree Urun * and the 
bird Urun was born a divine son who became their khan. His name 
was Urun molon eketai (having for mother the tree Urun), Urun 
shebo etseqtai (having for his father the bird Urun), Udontai 

Bodontai Gurbushten Tengrien Ku (Buen-dotkho, a Diurbiut, 

from the valley of the River Cobdo.) 

The father of all the Mongols or the race (bone) of Tsagan tuk, 
was the dog Noka, the mother Gdun modun, the tree Odun ; the 
father of the Mongols was born of a tree, and a dog suckled him. 
The mother of Tanguto was Tents and Sword, and the father, 

* Urun, perhaps Spermaphylus Dnricus. (Potanin.) 


Manguis. — (Tabiiiii Sakhal, a Mongol Uryankhait, in the Altai 
mountain, who assumed to belong to the race (bone) * of Tsagan 

The father of the Berset race was a wolf, living in a wood by a 
lake, with whom lived Moralukha (the reindeer). From them was 
born a son, the progenitor of the Bersets. — (Aiusha, a Khalka man 
of the Berset tribe, a race of Adje Bogdo mountains. Eastern Altai.) 

The Mongol race descends from the maid Udul (Kukiun Udul). — 
(A Shama in the Eastern Altai mountains.) 

In ancient times there was a great shama (Buddhist priest). He 
took a handful of earth, spit upon it, and threw it away — out came 
the Chinese nation. He gathered grass, spit upon it, and threw it 
away — out came the Russian nation. He took four stones, spit upon 
them, and threw them away — out came the four Mongol encamp- 
ments. Others say the Chinese were made of earth, and the Mongols 
of moat ; because the Chinese bury their dead in the ground, while 
the Mongols expose them to be devoured by dogs and birds. — 
(Cheren Dorcke, a Khalka man of Zain Shaben, from the Tamer 

In ancient times two khans warred among themselves, and destroyed 
the whole nation ; only one woman was left alive. She met a bull in 
a field, and begat of him two daughters, from whom the Mongol 
nation multiplied. — (The same as above.) 

The daughter of the khan of the Kotons, taking with her forty of 
her maids, went into a field to gather Djemuis (a wild edible vegetable 
product). Wishing to drink, they went to the water. In the middle 
of the water there was a drop of blood. The khan's daughter alone 
saw it and drank it up. From this she became pregnant ; fearing to 
return home she remained on the steppe. The khan asked the forty 
maidens — " Where is my daughter ? " They told him they had 

* Mr. Baber mentions that the Lolos in West Szechuan call themselves white 
bones and black bones. (C.T.G.) 


drank water, and wiili this water the khan's daughter had become 
pregnant and was ashamed. The khan said : " Lay stones on yom* 
bosoms and ye shall thus perhaps become pregnant, and say to her, 
'We also are pregnant ' ; then shall she come (home)." Thus it was. 
The khan only said to them all, '* Ye are all pregnant," and drove 
them away. The maidens went away to a place where a birch-tree 
grew. They had no food with them. The khan's daughter gave 
birth to a boy child ; but the famished mother had no milk. At that 
time there came to them an old man tending cows. '* Why do you 
live here ? " asked he. The khan's daughter told him her history. 
Then the old man plucked the birch and gave the end of it to the 
baby to suck. The baby was then all right. Afterwards the old man 
went to the khan, and said, " There is a child, Uel shebo epegtai 
urgo modon ekhetai (having for mother the bird Uel, and for his 
father the tree Urgo). The khan sent him with some nobles to fetch 
the child. The old man brought the child in his arms and threw him 
inside the tent. The child fell right on the khan's seat with folded 
legs as though he were going to sit ; from that they understood that 
he was destined to be khan. And he was made khan. The mother 
of the child threw herself in the water. Therefore, the men of the 
Koton tribe, on the approach of a flood, kill a black ram and throw it 
into the water; besides this, they also throw into the water hairs from 
their beard, and believe that the waters marry them. Of the forty 
maidens who served the khan's daughter were born forty sons, who 
became chiefs of the Buruts.* From them multiplied the tribes (el) 
of Sarabash.-f The son of the khan's daughter was Gelgente.— 
(Khodja Gul, of Koton tribe south of Ubs Lake).- 

The father of the Kussians, Kirghis, and Chinese, was Au ata, and 
their mother, Au ene. They had forty daughters and forty sons. 
Prom the youngest son and youngest daughter sprung the Kirghis 
nation ; from the eldest children, the Chinese ; from the middle, the 
Kussians. — (Tengis hai, a Kirghis of the Chubaraigir race of Tar- 

* Buruts, districts in Mongolia. (C.T.G.) 

f Sarahasb, tribes in the Altai Mountains. (Potanin.) 


Three women in their labour chitched — the first, the earth ; the 
second, a tree; the third, the mane of a horse; from them were born: 
from the first, the Chinaman, whose land is vast and people numerous ; 
from the second, the Russian, whose forests are many, and whose 
people are numerous ; but it was not so with the third ; from the 
third came the Kasak, who has but little hair on the mane, and is but 
a little people. — (The same as above.) 

God, when he made man, ordered them to choose what suited them. 
The Chinaman seized the earth; the Russian, a tree; the Kazak 
(Kirghis), the herb hetege (Festuca ovina). Therefore, the Chinese 
IS a husbandman; the Russian, a huntsman; and the Kirghis, a 
herdsman. — (A Kirghis of Tarbagatai.) 

20. Khukhu bukha (the grey Ox), the Father op the Mongol 


There were two maidens blooming with colour. Them a lake 
divided from a grey calf. A tiger lived with a calf and protected 
him. When the tiger went to the mountains for food he hung a bell 
on the calf. To the calf came one of the maidens ; the calf was 
frightened and ran away ; at the sound of the bell up rushed the 
tiger and threw the maiden into the lake. On the second maid the 
bull begat a four-footed son, who was left to browse at the entrance 
to the gorge ; at the entrance of a neighbouring gorge browsed a 
mare ; the son of the maiden of the bull ate in one day as much as 
the mare ate in seven. Therefore, they cut off his fore feet ; and he 
stood up to eat not grass but meat. — (Ocher, a Khalka, near Cobdo. 
The story was translated in a confused way.) 

21. ELDjeG (the Ass), the Father op the Chinese Nation. 

There was once a poor Bande. He had nothing to drink or to eat. 
The Bande went on the road and met two men quarrelling over a 
precious-stone as big as a sheep's eye. Bande said to them that 
they should hand him the stone, and that he should run with it, 


and whoever first caught him should be given the stone. They pre- 
pared to race ; then Bande swallowed the stone and disappeared. He 
came to the territory of a certain khan. In a poor tent lived an old 
man and an old woman ; he lived with them ; the old man adopted 
him as a son to his house. Bande spit and vomited gold. The old 
man took the gold to the khan to ask him for his daughter for wife to 
Bande. The khan wished to see Bande himself with his own eyes. 
Bande vomited out some gold before the face of the khan. The 
daughter of the khan ordered him to be bound with a horse-girth, 
and, having given him salt water, flogs him with a whip ; out flew 
the stone from him. The khan's daughter seized the stone and 
swallowed it. Bande returned to his old man and said that he had 
lost the power of procuring gold. *' What are we to do now ? " says 
the old man. ''Make an ass's saddle and bridle," said Bande. When 
the things were prepared Bande went to a tree and sat down. At 
that time the khan's daughter with twenty virgins went out to play 
with the white tree. Then Bande began to read a writing which had 
been read out to him in his sleep, when he in the time of his poverty 
had once slept in the road under the tree. By this reading, the 
khan's daughter, who was pregnant because she had swallowed the 
precious-stone, was changed into a she-ass. Then the other maidens 
seeing only the she-ass, and not seeing the khan's daughter, were 
frightened ; but Bande saddled the ass and rode off ; he rode for a 
month; then the ass was wearied out and could go no farther. Bande 
left her and proceeded on foot to a certain town where he became a 
Lhama (a Buddhist priest). The ass which he left behind gave 
birth to two boys — one good, the other evil. The following genera- 
tions were all likewise twins. They all became rich, had much gold, 
silver, cloth, tea, &c. From them came the Chinese nation. — (Daba, 
a Khalka man of Khebe Tushe gun Gachoun, on the north slope of 
Tsastu Bogdo.) 

22. Gakhai (the Pig), the Father op the Kirghis Nation. 

Ginghis Khan built a Per ; then his son made a house of the 
materials. Some bad women smeared the back of the thief with soot. 


In the morning tlie thief was recognised, and the father drove him 
into Gobi. On his departure, the criminal stole and took "with him a 
stirring-stick, with which kourmiss is stirred, in a leather sack, and 
together with it he carried off the luck of the Mongol nation. In 
Gobi he came to a river, on the banks of which he met a pig. Out of 
the pig he begat children, from whom the Kirghis have multiplied. 
The Kirghis are rich in cattle and possessions, because the Beliur of 
the Mongol nation was taken to the Kirghis Ulus* — (The same as 

The Kirghis f themselves, especially those living in Tarbagatai and 
Altai, also say that they are descended from the pig — " Kazaknuin 
Akesui Chusko." Therefore, said they, " We do not eat pork." 

23. The First People. 

In former times a mare with her foal and a woman and her son fed 
entirely upon grass ; but the woman and her son did not bite the 
grass, but tore it up by the root with their hands, so that where they 
fed grass no longer grew, and the land became desert ; therefore suc- 
ceeding people were commanded to eat not grass but meat. — (Uchja, 
a Tourgout of Tarbagatai.) 

At first only four men and four animals were made, the camel, 
horse, ox, and sheep, and all were ordered to live on grass. But the 
men pulled up the grass by the root, made a store of it, and laded 
their arms with it. Then the animals complained to God that man 
was thus destroying all the grass ; and God asked them, " If I forbid 
men to eat grass will you consent that they should sell, buy, slaughter 
and eat you ? " The animals consented.— (Sier Dai, a Kirghis of 

* Ulus, nomad villages. (C.T.G.) 

t The Kirghis are influenced by Arabs Mahommedans, and therefore do not 
eat pork. A Chinaman has explained to me, " Mahommedans do not eat pork 
hecause the pig is a sacred animal." (C.T.G.) 


24. Karagan. 

People wished to kill the saint Elias ; he fled to the wilderness and 
built himself a tent and a bed, and lived by hunting wild animals. To 
him came the fox and said, " Feed me with the meat thou hast cap- 
tured, and I will find thee a wife." Elias fed her, and the fox really 
brought him a wife, and then ran away. No sooner had she hid 
herself than the wife changed into a trembling karagan (caragana 
frutescens). Elias said, " May I never see thee again, O fox ! " — 
(Djak sui hai, a Kirghis of the Baidjeget race, of Tarbagatai.) 

25. Legends of the Swan, the Widgeoit, and the Crow, 


Khong, the swan. In ancient times there was only water, there 
was no land. A Lhama came from the sky and began to stir the 
ocean with an iron rod. The ocean, like butter, grew thick from the 
wind and melted from the fire. From this stirring in the centre of 
the ocean there thickened a ball of earth, and from the stirring of the 
more distant part of the ocean the earth grew hard in the form of a 
square. After this, from the sky to that land, came two swans; the 
Lhama made from the nails of the female a woman, and from the nails 
of the male a man. From these two the first of men sprung the 
human race ; for this cause the Mongols do not kill the swan. The 
swan has yellow cheeks, a white body, and black feet; therefore the 
Tangut Lhamas all wear yellow clothes. The body is bigger than the 
head ; therefore the "White Khan (Russian Emperor) rules over ten 
tongues. The feet are black,* therefore people living by the sea-shore 
know little of books. Thus too the Tanguts f know more than them 
all (for the tongue is nearest of all to the head). — (Cheren Dorchke, 
a Khalka man by the River Tamer.). 

* Xhavay black, also means desert, and by metaphor intellectual darkness. 

f The tanguts, being the cheek of the swan, contain the tongue, language 
written and spoken. (C.T.G.) 


Arigur, the widgeon. In ancient times there was a poor man. 
He had only five goats. While tending them he saw seven Lhamas 
sitting down drinking tea. He took them a little goat's milk ; the 
Lhamas accepted the milk and said to him, '* Be rich for seven 
centuries." After that those seven Lhamas flew away in the form of 
widgeons; and indeed that man became rich, he lived for a century, 
died, was born again and again, became rich. That very man lives 
now in Tachjen Uryankhai Gachoun, his name is Khun Taichje. 

According to another account, people do not kill the widgeon 
because he is yellow, and there is yellowness on the cheek of the swan. 
— (Daba, a Khalka man of Kehe tushe gun Gachoun.) 

Kere the crow. In olden times there was a Lhama (the narrator 
thought it was the same Lhama who stirred the ocean with his rod). 
He created all the animals and the birds and among them the crow. 
Having drawn some beautiful water in a cup he gave it to the crow 
and said, *' Pour this water, drop by drop, on the head' of each maUj 
that they may become immortal." The crow flew away, and sat in a 
certain place on a cedar tree. She croaked, the precious cup fell in 
consequence, the water was spilt. In that place grew three plants, 
always green, always fresh, that never die, the kosh (Finns cembi-a), 
the djergene (ephedra) and the ai-tsa (juniper). - Other trees, like 
men, are mortal, they die each winter. The crow returned to the 
Lhama; he asked her, *' Where is the water ? " ** Spilt." Then the 
Lhama said to the crow, " For this thy name shall be Khara kere 
(black crow). Thou shalt have no other food than the eyes of dead 

By another account people do not kill the crow because she is all 
black, and the swan has black feet. — (Cheren Dorchke, a Khalka man 
by the River Tamer.) 

26. The Hare's Tail. 

In former times people who died rose again after three days. This 
has ceased to be so, from the following circumstance: a man died 
who had only a wife and one daughter. The widow went to and fro 


in the tent. At that time daughter wanted to steal some of the pro- 
visions, so that she might eat them without her mother's knowledge. 
In comes the corpse of the father and says, '' Why do you steal ? " 
Then the daughter said to him, " Must the dead indeed rise again ? " 
and she struck him with the poker, that is, the stick burnt at the end, 
which lay close to the stove to stir the charcoal with. That is why 
the hare has a black mark on his tail.*— (Udja, a Torgout of Tar- 

27. The Camel and the Moral (Reindeer). 

In olden days a Lhama who understood magic made a living 
machine, and thought to subdue all the khans on the earth, and be 
himself sole khan. With this view he made a beast which could 
when it ate destroy men. This was the camel, which had then the 
horns of the reindeer. He struck men with his horns and bit them 
with his teeth. The camel destroyed many nations, until a khan who 
was then Guigen j placed in his nose a wooden stick, and fastened 
to it a rein, and, calling tke wild beast *' Temen " (camel), subdued 
him thus, ** Bear henceforth wood argal " (fuel made of dung), said the 
khan. Then the camel began to carry argal, and man began to lead 
him by the nose to drink. 

Once, when the camel was browsing on grass, the reindeer (Cervus 
Elephas) came to him. The reindeer then had only horns, like the 
Tsa (^Cerviis Tarandus, northern deer). The reindeer said, " Give me 
thy horns: to-day is the marriage of the lion and tiger. To-morrow, 
when thou comest to the drinking-place, I will return them to thee." 
The camel gave his horns. On the morrow he went to the drinking- 
place, but there was no reindeer ; so the camel was left without horns, 
for the reindeer had tricked him. That is why the camel now, when 
he drinks water, looks about to right and left, and lifts his head high — 
he is trying to see where the reindeer is. The reindeer also sheds his 

* Certain superstitions attach to the hare in China as being connected with 
ghosts. (C.T.G.) 

t Guigen, Buddhist high priest. 


horns every year, because they do not belong to him. — (Cheren 
Dorchke, a Khalka man by the River Tamer.) 

28. The Fox and the Wolf. 

The wolf and the fox found on the road a skin full of fat. " Hand 
it over; let us eat it," said the wolf. " That won't do here. Here 
people are going backwards and forwards ; we must carry it to the 
top of a mountain and eat it there. Do thou carry it." The wolf 
carried the fat to a great mountain. The fox says, " There's not 
enough fat for us both, it's not worth dividing ; let one of us eat the 
whole." " Which of us ? " asks the wolf. « Let the elder eat it," 
said the fox; ♦' pray how old art thou ? " The wolf thought a while, 
and determined to invent a lie, so as to cheat the fox. " When," says 
he, " I was a youngster the Mount Sumeru was only a clot of earth 
in a bog, and the ocean only a puddle." The fox lay down and wept. 
" Why weepest thou ? " "I wept because I once had two cubs, and 
the youngest was just your age " ; so the fox cheated the wolf, and 
the wolf was so ashamed that he ran away. — (Daba, a Khalka man 
from Kheke tushe gun Gachoun.) 

29. Legends about Shj&duir Van. 

There were four Djan djen * to the four aimaks, and Sheduir Van 
was one of them. He purposed to free the Mongols.f Ui Djan djen 
was in the same council, but thought differently, and informed fidzen 
Khan J of Sheduir Van's designs. Sheduir Van had an officer 
(meren) named Donduk, who had only one eye ; he warned Sheduir 
Van. " Do not trust Ui Djan djen, he says one thing but thinks 
another." Shdduir Van did not believe him, and said, " Donduk has 
only one eye, he sees badly and counsels badly." When the plot was 
discovered, and there remained nothing to do but to escape, Sheduir 

* Djan djen, perhaps chin chiang chun, general. (C.T.G.) 

t From Chinese yoke. (C.T.G.) 

t fidzen Khan, Emperor of China. (C.T.G.) 


Van went norfchwards. Donduk again gave him good advice: " Do 
not cross Khan Khoro, but cross Khonen daban." * Again Shednir 
Van did not heed the advice. Khan Khoro proved to be impassable. 
He turned back, and at the exit of a narrow gorge was met by the 
Chinese army. — (A Mongol of the Khotogait clan.) 

A Khotogait man told me that there is a saying of an ancient 
Shaman. '' Khun taidje etsegtai, Khongre notuktai Khonen daba 
dzamtai," that is, " I am a descendant of Khun taidje, a native of the 
country of Khongre, and having a road across Khonen daban." 
Perhaps the saying refers to Sheduir Van . 

Sheduir Van was the ancestor of Beshereltui Van, one of the five 
princes of Khotagaitu. Not more than a hundred years ago three 
men plotted to pay no more tribute to the Emperor of China. These 
three men were Amursan, Sheduir Van, and Noi-on Khutukta. They 
agreed at Erchemuin-nuru to establish a Mongol army, and to collect 
taxes for their own benefit. The Emperor heard of the plot, and 
sent an army. The three Noions were put to flight. Amursan fled 
straight on, crossed the Altai mountains and escaped into Russia ; 
Noi-on Khutuktu was left in the present Darkhatsk territory. 
Sheduir Van was taken, carried to Peking, and there executed. 
Noi-on Khutuktu started for Peking with contrite face and bribes ; in 
the village of Kalgau he met a carriage with a hearse, and learnt 
that it was carrying the bones and corpse of the executed Sheduir 
Van to his family. Noi-on Khutuktu remained, closed the hole 
through which the smoke escapes and the door, and recited prayers, 
having clothed himself all in black from head to foot. The Emperor, 
hearing where he was, sent to seize him; but Khutuktu resisted. 
The Emperor intended to send an army; but his wise men told him 
that Khutuku would pray to the sky for help, and the sky would send 
him an army of the sky chereks, of whom each would be able to slay 
1,000 Chinese. The Emperor rescinded his order, and then the 
clothes of Khutuktu became yellow; only on the neck was any black 
left; that is why the Lhamas now wear yellow coats with black 

* Khonen daban, modern Russian province of Yeneseisk. (Potanin.) 


Sheduir Van, before his execution, said : "I am to be executed ; 
but that is no misfortune; my soul shall enter the womb of the wife 
of the Emperor." Sheduir Van was beheaded. The Empress was 
pregnant, and gave birth to a son who had a cicatrice on the neck. 
The Emperor asked his wise men what that signified. They told 
him the soul of Sheduir Van had entered the womb of the Empress. 
The Emperor ordered that the child should be slain, and that pieces 
of flesh as large as money should be plucked off. After this the 
Empress conceived again, and bore a son with a scar. Again the 
Emperor asked his wise men, who told him that this, also, was again 
the soul of Sheduir Van. Then the Emperor ordered the babe to be 
thrown in the fire ; the charcoal went out and changed into water. 
After this the soul of Sheduir Van did not again enter the womb of 
the Empress, but revealed itself in a hairless bay mare ; the skin of 
this mare is preserved to the present day ; but it is not known in 
what Gachoun or in what Khure it is. In the Gachoun of Besheneltu. 
Van is secretly kept the standard of the Mongol nation. It will only 
be unfurled on the day Mongolia is freed from the Chinese yoke. — 
(Chenen, a Khalka man of the River Tamer.) 

A Diurbiut, named Buen Dotkhs, translated to me very briefly 
another story about Sheduir Van, which only, however, differed from 
the preceding story that in the place of Noi-on Khutuktu here 
figures Kuukiun ( saintly virgin) Khutuktu. That, say the Mongols, 
is the gegen, who is on alternate days of the male and female sex. 

30. Sartaktai. 

Sartaktai lived in ancient days by the sources of the River £der ; 
from thence he rode in one day on his piebald horse without a tail 
right to Barun tszu (Tibet); he had a wife and eight children; he 
slew many wild beasts and caught fishes. The coats and clothes of 
his family were very bad. Sartaktai himself wished to join the lake 
Subsennor to the Khara usu ; he began to dig ; he throws away a 

scoop of earth dug from the canal. There's a mountain — another 

another mountain. Thirty -three times he scoops and throws away 


the scoopfull. Thirty-three mountains rear themselves ; they are the 
thirty-three mountains of the Khankhn Khei range. Yet the water 
did not flow from the Ubsa Lake ; after each dig with his spade the 
water gushes from the lake, but flows back directly. Then Sartaktai 
got into a rage, threw aside his work, and said : " Be thy name 
Subsennor." Bad wine, the dregs of the spirit that comes from the 
still, is called syhsa. — (Cheren Dorhke, a Khalka man by the River 

Near the town of Cobdo, in the valley of the Khara usu, on the 
right bank of the River Cobdo, there is a peculiar gulley stretching 
in the direction away from the river. This gulley is attributed by the 
local inhabitants to Sartaktai-Batuir,* who once dug a canal from the 
Khara usu lake to Peking, and traversed the distance between the 
two in a single day. — (Muno, a Torgout.) 

According to the inhabitants of the Altai, somewhere on the 
Katune, below the ford of Kort Kestu, there is a place where the 
imprint of Sartaktai's sitting down is apparent. 


Boroltai Ku lived in a hut on grass, and was clothed in a felt coat. 
His only possession was a girdle; once he saw a fox's hole, and dug 
out the fox. She said to him : *' Don't kill me, and I will marry thee 
to a khan's daughter, and will make thee a khan." Boroltai Ku let 
the fox go. She ran to Gurbushten Khan, and says : *' Boroltai Ku, 
the rich khan, wishes to marry thy daughter." " If Boroltai Ku is 
indeed a rich khan then let him procure me a leopard, a lion, and an 
elephant," said Gurbushten Khan. The fox ran to Boroltai Ku, and 
said : " Give me three strings." Boroltai Ku took from his girdle 
three strings. The fox took them and went at first to the leopard 
and said : " Gurbushten Khan and Boroltai Ku, the rich khan, 
prepare a summer feast ; and, as you are a famous animal, the khan 

* Batuir. Can this be Arabic Badur ? 


wishes to invite you." She placed on the leopard the string and led 
him forth. In like manner she bridled the lion and the elephant, and 
led them to Gurbushten Khan. The khan ordered an iron Baishen- 
house to be built, which was enclosed by three walls, and fettered the 
beasts with chains. Then he said : " If Boroltai Ku is indeed a rich 
khan, then let him drive his cattle and come here." The fox ordered 
Boroltai Ku to follow in her footsteps. Boroltai Ku went on foot in 
his bad coat. On the road to the khan tliey came to a river ; the fox 
ordered Boroltai Ku to stay by the river, and herself ran on before to 
Gurbushten Khan, and says : " Boroltai Ku, the rich khan, is close 
at hand; but a misfortune has befallen him; all his cattle, his 
southern camels, all his silk garments and gold, at the time of his 
crossing sank — Boroltai is left naked. Send him quickly silken 
raiment in which he may visit you." Silken raiment they sent; 
Boroltai Ku came to the khan's camp. The khan gave him his 
daughter and let him go home, and as a guide gave him his Noi-on* 
The fox ran on ahead, and begged each herdsman on the road if a 
passer-by should ask them whose is this cattle ? to reply, ** It is the 
cattle of Boroltai Ku, the rich khan." The Noi-on despatched by the 
khan received the same answer all along the road. The fox ran to 
the tent of the Khan Manguis, lay down at the door and groans. 
The khan asks — *' What art thou groaning at, O fox ? " "A mis- 
fortune will befall unfortunate me," said the fox; *'a storm is coming." 
*' Oh, dear, that is a misfortune to me, too," says the Khan Manguis. 
" How to you ? " says the fox ; '' you can order a hole ten fathoms deep 
to be dug, and can hide in it." So he did. Boroltai Ku appeared in 
the tent of the Khan Manguis, as if it was his own. The fox assured 
the Noi-on of Gurbushten Khan that it was the house of Boroltai Ku, 
the rich khan. " There is only one defect here," says she. *' What 
is that ? " " Under the tent under the earth a demon inhabits. 
Won't you bring down lightning to slay him ? " The Noi-on brought 
down lightning and it struck the Khan Manguis who was sitting in 
the hole ; and Boroltai Ku became khan, and took all the possessions, 

* Noi-on, perhaps Chinese Net jen, attendant, one who holds office in the 
palace (?) (C.T.G.) 

Vol. 4.— Part 1. d 


the cattle, and the people of Manguis, and lived near Gurbushten 
Khan. — (Daba, a Khalka man of Kebe tushe gun Gachoun.) 

In ancient times, before the baptising of the inhabitants of the 
Altai, the khan ordered all the Kamas (Shamans) to be burnt because 
he found out that they were all cheats. They collected all the Kamas 
to the number of 250, and made for them a tent of straw in which 
they placed 249 of them, and the remaining one in a similar tent 
separately. This they did because they considered him to be very 
strong. The tent with the 249 Shamans in it was completely con- 
sumed ; but the fire was only able just to reach the great Kama 
(when it went out), he perspired so much. Again they constructed a 
tent, set fire to it — the same thing happened. A third time they 
collected and heaped up still more wood and grass in the hope that 
the Kama would not be able to withstand the heat a third time. 
As soon as the fire began to reach the Kama he flew from the fire 
a bird straight to the mountains ; his home is still there. One car. 
reach the place on horseback. The place is somewhere near the 
source of the River Kuierluiky (in the upper part of the valley of the 
River Uruoul.) — (Alexis, a Christian Altai man.) 

The Diurbuts and the Bulugunsk Uryankhaits (who speak Mon- 
golian) have a blade of grass of the heroes Galtuma and Shuno. — (A 
Zain Shaben man.) 

Asser Karbustu, to procure fire, to plough fields, to heat iron, &c. 
— (Same as above.) 

In ancient days, before Ginghis Khan, existed Prent^i Ebugen,* 
who had nine sons, from whom descended ninety-nine grandsons. — 
(Same as above.) 

In ancient days lived the khans Shambolen and Khunker; about 
the latter, people believe he still lives ; his nation eats fish. — (A man 
of Zain Shaben.) 

* fibugen, the aged. (Potanin.) 


Ginghis Khan was the Son of the Sky.* He appeared on the 
earth as a babe at the time of building a village. A woman who was 
collecting fuel of dung heard a child's cry, found him, and brought 
him up. He married, and had seven sons, of whom six had children, 
and the seventh not. From the six sons, and from Ginghis Khan 
himself, proceeded the seven Gachouns. — (A Khalka man of Tachjen 
Uryankhai Gachoun.) 

The men of the Altai are divided into three tribes — Kaldjan erkhuit, 
Sarui erkhuit, and Kara erkhuit. When they gave them the names 
a cunning man divided meat among the three tribes in the following 
manner : to the first he gave the first joints of the neck, to the second 
the second joints of the neck (the meat was not roasted nor boiled), 
to the third he gave soft flesh, " kara et," that is, black or boiled 
food. It was thus the three tribes received their names. — (Alexis, a 
Christian Altai man.) 

There lived a khan named Gander Uriuha. He waged war a great 
deal, once he was at war for three years. At that time his wife was 
left at home. In the capital where she was left there lived a great 
Lhama. On his return home Khan Gander Uriuha found his wife 
had a child, and he suspected it must be the son of the Lhama. He 
ordered them both to be banished to a mountain. There they lived, 
the Lhama under one rock, the woman under another ; while she 
cooked the food or fetched water and firewood he looked after the 
baby. Once when the woman had gone to fetch water, the Lhama, 
having closed his eyes to recite his prayers, did not observe that the 
child had run off to the river for something or other. Opening his 
eyes, and not seeing the child, the Lhama was distressed out of pity 
for the mother; and, so as to avoid causing her sorrow, he mixed some 
dough and made of it just such an other second child : he gave it life, 
and placed it by himself. The mother comes to the Lhama and finds 
the new babe. To her question whence it had come the Lhama told 
her the fact. The woman then brought up both children. 

* Son of sky, perhaps same as Chinese Tientze, Son of Heaven, or Emperor (?) 

D 2 


After the lapse of three years Khan Gander Uriuha sent a man to 
the mountam where those he had banished lived, and said, " If after 
three years a new child is come, that is a sign that the elder child 
belongs to them, and in such case they are to be slain. If, on the 
other hand, there is only with them one child, as before, then they are 
innocent." The messenger saw the mode of life of the banished ones, 
and said to the khan " His was the deed." The khan sent an army 
to slay them. When the woman saw the army coming she ran to the 
Lhama and said, " An army surrounds the mountain." The Lhama 
ordered her to pluck a quantity of grass and bring it to him. Then 
he breathed upon the grass, and it became a numerous army, which 
put the khan's warriors to flight. The khan's city was besieged. 
Then the khan said, "This Lhama is a great miracle worker: he 
cannot be a sinner." So he sent an embassy to him with the prayer 
that the Lhama would throw himself into the city. — (A Khalka man 
from the Khehe tushe gun Gaehoun.) 

There was a great city, in which lived an amban (Chinese military 
governor). In the city, in the market, appeared an expensive hand- 
kerchief. The amban asked who made it ; it was made by a woman 
who lived in great poverty on the shore of the lake. When the 
amban knew that the kerchief was worn by the husband of the 
woman he ordered him to build him a palace. The old man returned 
to his wife and wept. The wife said to him, " Do not weep, but go to 
the lake and call the white man who lives at the bottom of the lake 
and say the word, " Khel merchen." From the lake came forth a 
man all in white clothes and with white hair, and took him to the 
bottom of the lake, where there was a beautiful town. In that town he 
said the word, " Khel merchen." Then the white man gave him sand 
from the bottom of the lake. The man thought, " What good will 
this sand do me ? " he nevertheless took his lap full of sand to his 
wife. She said, " This is Khel merchen," and she threw it there where 
the amban had ordered a palace to be built. In that place sprang up 
a beautiful tower. Next morning the amban saw it and was delighted; 
he ordered, " Let that man make five golden towers, otherwise I will 
cut off' his head." The old man returned to his wife and wept. The 


\Yife ordered him again to go to the lake and call forth the white man 
to accompany him to the city under the water, and to say there the 
word, " Tohugu tachen." When he pronounced that word the white 
man gave him a small iron box. His wife again told him the box 
was " Tobugu tachen." She opened the box and said, " Let there 
come forth 500 soldiers and 500 horses." This army went to the 
town, took it, and killed the amban. After this the army returned to 
the box. The woman kept the little box for herself. Whatever army 
she wished for she could draw from the box.* The narrator added 
that she was the Empress of Russia. — (The same as above.) 

32. Khovugu axd KHADUiN-Dziuae.f 

Khovugu was a tremendous hero. He leant against the mountain 
Sumbur and drank of the ocean Sum Dalai. His tent had ],500 
stanchions ; the screen for the hole that let out the smoke was of 
white Taipuin. He sat on a chair of red '* Dzanduin." Ten men 
could not lift up his black " Domba Asuir," five men could not lift 
his grey cup "Batuir." He hunted in the three mountains, the Altai, 
the Khanghai, and the Khukhei; his steed was the grey "Solongo."J 
Besides him he had two dogs, Aisuir and Bassuir, and two birds, 
Aigan and Taigan. On the Khangai mountains browsed his herds of 
black horses, on the Khukhei mountains his herds of grey horses, and 
on the Altai his herds of piebald horses. His whip Koshyak was 
thirty fathoms long ; his saddle was like a mountain pass. Without 
smoke he made a red fire; without steam he boiled red tea. He 
hunted on the three mountains, the Altai, the Khangai, and the 
Khukei ; he watered his cattle at the water of lusun sur. He had a 
mother and a sister older than himself. 

A tremendous dust rose in the south-west. When the dust drew 
near it appeared that a black-bearded man, thirty years old, on a bay 

* The Mongols call the Tsar "the White Khan," and believe he is a woman. 
They confound him with the White Khan of mythology. (Potanin.) 

t Khovugu, the Hare (?), Khaduin, the Hare (?), Dziugu, the Glutton. 

X Solongo perhaps weazel ? (Potanin.) 


horse, had arrived. To the question of Khovugu who he was he 
replied that he was the subject living in the south-west of the country 
of Balai Khan, and that his name was Khaduin-Dziuge. Khovugu 
seized him, bound him, and placed him on the bank of Isun sur. He 
ordered his sister to go to guard him, and again went off to hunt. His 
sister did not submit. She went indeed to guard him; but when she 
saw the hero she unbound him, took him to the tent, and feasted him. 
When Khovugu returned home his sister hid Khaduin-dziuge, and 
herself feigned to be ill, and said that the heart of Abruik the snake 
could cure her. To get it, it would be necessary to ride for seventy 
years. Khovugu goes forth, and on the road he comes across a tent, 
in which three maidens live. " Go not forth," they advise him, <' or 
thou wilt perish." But Khovugu did not delay, he did not even drink 
tea, he rode further. Ten years passed he in one day. Beaching 
Abruik the snake he slew him. For three years he cut up his flesh, 
until he arrived at the heart. On his return he passed by the maidens 
and they stole from him the heart of the snake, and in its place laid 
the heart of an ox. The sister of Khovugu ate it, and said she had 
recovered. Khovugu again went out hunting ; when he returned his 
sister again feigned illness, and said it was necessary to procure her 
the heart of the twenty-five headed Khara Manguis. 

Khovugu again rode past the white tent, but did not stay there 
even to drink tea. He slew Khara Manguis, and on his return rides 
to the white tent. The maidens take out the heart of Khara Man- 
guis, and place in his sack the heart of a male camel. When Khovugu 
arrived home he felt weary, and therefore laid down to sleep. Then 
the man who was hidden in the box of Khovugu leapt forth and 
began to strike him. Khovugu also got up; but in strength they 
were well matched. Then the sister strewed under the feet of her 
brother frozen camel-dung, and flour under the feet of Khaduin 
Dziuge. Khovugu fell, but Khaduin-Dziuge was not able to pierce 
him. He asks the sister for something wherewith he may pierce her 
brother, and she gave him the knife of Khovugu himself. Having 
cut up Khovugu they buried his body. They took all his cattle, his 
property, and his tent, and started for the land of Balai Khan, but 
they could not force the grey mare Solongo, the dogs Aisuir and 



Bassuir, or the birds Aigan and Taigan, to go with them; for as soon 
as Khaduin-Dziuge turned from them they all returned back. 

When Khaduin-Dziuge was at a distance the grey mare Solongo 
told her companions to wait at the tomb while she went to the white 
tent to beg some healing-charm. The three maidens all together 
sat on the grey mare Solongo, and rode to the tomb of Khovugu. 
Solongo struck the tomb with her hoof, and from the blow the stones 
thereof were scattered in every direction. Again she struck with her 
hoof, and the bones revealed themselves. The three maidens first 
pronounced a charm, the bones of Khovugu clothed themselves with 
flesh. They pronounced a second charm, he stood up. ''How soundly 
I have slept," said he. " Thou didst not sleep, but Khaduin-Dziuge 
slew thee," said the maidens. Then Khovugu changed himself into a 
tiny man, and changed his steed into a scabby foal. Water ran from 
Khovugu*s nose. In this wise he rode to the south-west country, 
whither Khaduin-Dziuge had withdrawn himself. He stands at the 
tent, round him is much cattle and a numerous nation — these were 
formerly his cattle and his nation. The old man who lived in the tent 
feasted him and slew a sheep for him. Khovugu asked the old man, 
*' Where is the mother of Khovugu ? " He replied, " A little further 
to the south." Khovugu rode along the indicated road, and found a 
poor tent and in it an old woman. Of all the things in the tent one 
only was his former property, the cup which it took five men to lift. 
The old woman gave him tea in this cup, and he drank it up. 
" Where is Khaduin-Dziuge ? " asked Khovugu of the old woman. 
" A little further to the south," replied the old woman. Khovugu 
rode to the place indicated. Khaduin-Dziuge was living in his great 
tent. Khovugu entered it and asked his sister, " Where is Khaduin- 
Dziuge ? " His sister replied that he had gone to amuse himself at 
shooting from a bow with Apban Batuir. When Khaduin-Dziuge 
returned home and saw Khovugu, not knowing him, he asked, 
" What man is this ? " Khovugu replied, " I am a beggar." " Can 
you shoot ? " " Badly." Khaduin-Dziuge invited him to show his 
skill. Khovugu made a bow from a reed and an arrow from Deres. 
He shot, but the arrow falls close to the bow, and does not fly far. 
" If I had a good bow I could shoot better," said Khovugu. 


They ordered the old bow of Khovugu to be brought in a cart, for 
it was so large. Then Khovugu again assumed his former appearance 
of a giant, seized Khaduin-Dziuge, and cut him in ten pieces. His 
sister he bound to the tail of nine horses and tore her in pieces. He 
took his cattle, his people, and his mother, and returned home. He 
married the middle one of the maidens, that is, Nogon-darekhu. 

The narrator at the end of his story only remarked the three 
maidens were, Tsagan Darekhu, ^Nogon Darekhu, and Nar Khandjet. 
—(A Khotogait from the Bai-Bulik guard-station.) 

33. EneN tsain and Bai gu e ider Khan. 

In the North country lived Bai gu [e ider Khan ; in the East 
country, Eren tsain mergen. Once upon a time, Bai gu e ider Khan 
ordered to beat the drum ; they beat on the big drum ; big people 
collected together ; they beat on the little drum ; little people col- 
lected together. To the assembly Bai gu e ider Khan gave the 
order — " I have heard that there is a certain Eren tsain mergen who 
has many horses, cattle, and nations ; let three men go forth and 
spy the wealth of Eren tsain mergen." 

Three mergen (officers) went forth to the land of Eren tsain 
mergen. They rode for a month, till they came to the plain in which 
were the herds of horses of Eren tsain mergen ; they took ten days 
to ride through the herds of horses ; five days and nights to ride 
through the herds of camels ; twenty days and nights to ride through 
the flocks of sheep. After that they met an old man quite white ; 
he was the father of Eren tsain ; he was seated on an enormous roan 
horse, and was clothed in a cloak made from sixty-eight sheep, and 
in a hat of eighteen foxes' skins. Still further, on a small plain, stood 
the mare of Eren tsain ; then, on a large plain, they saw a great 
tent with eighteen stanchions, and by it a stable which had on one 
side the image of Tsonkabe ; on the second, of Ocher Van ; on the 
third, of Mandjeshere ; on the fourth, of Khonesuin-bodesattei. In 
the tent with Eren tsain mergen were two dogs, Asuir and Basuir, 
besides them, other animals, Shar eren mogoe, Khar eren mogoe, 
Altuin dziugei, and Mengun dziugei. When the messengers re- 
turned he ordered the drum to be beaten, collected the nation, and 


went to war against Eren tsain mergen. The father of Ereii tsahi, 
from a snowy white mountain, saw the thousand troops, and rode 
off to tell Eren tsain; but he was asleep at that time; he slept 
three years at a stretch. At last, having heard the prayer of his 
father, he woke, sprung up, saddled and bridled his steed, drank a 
cup of tea, ate, sat on his steed, rode forth and defeated the whole 
army only with his whip " Kungkhai." Bai gu e ider Khan was 
changed into a hare and fled to the mountains. Eren tsain took all 
his nation and feasted for sixty days. — (Cheren Dorchke, a man of 
Zain Shaben.) 

34. The White Khan and Gunuin Khara. 

In the dominions of the White Khan lived Elsuin ebugen (the 
aged) ; the old man lived with his old woman ; ten kinds of cattle 
had they. Each day the old man guarded his cattle, and watered 
them from the lake Khuntai. Once, whilst he was standing at the 
guard-station, the old man thought — " I have ten kinds of cattle ; 
when I die to whom will they go ? I will go to filguin Ulan Khada, 
to the hero Shartzur Khan, and I will beg of him a son." He 
hastily rode home and told his old woman his design and intention. 
** Wait," said the old woman, " the course of three days in the herd 
and then come again." Having passed three days with his herds, 
f]lsuin the aged returned [home ; his wife was with child. In the 
course of a year she gave birth to a babe ; a day he lived, and the 
skin of one sheep was not large enough to cover him ; five days the 
boy lived, five sheep-skins were too small ; ten days he lived, ten 
sheep-skins were too small. The old people rejoiced that so fine a 
boy had been born to them. They made him a saddle and bridle, and 
a bow with arrows ; they gave him for a horse a chestnut colt born of 
a mare the same day he was born. Now Elsuin the aged had two 
relatives who served as advisers to the White Khan, and had hoped 
to inherit the wealth of the old man if he were to die without 
children. Having heard that to him was born a big, strong son, they 
counselled to destroy him, and said to the White Khan : " Elsuin 
the aged has a son who will be a danger to thee. It is necessary to 
destroy him. To-morrow call him and say : * In the South country 


is the fifty-headed Altuir Kharni Manguis ; if he can be got it is 
well ; there is no other man like thee, and there is no other horse 
on which to ride like thy chestnut. Go and bring Manguis here ! ' 
He will not return alive from Manguis." 

On the morrow tlie White Khan required the son of Elsuin the 
aged, so he saddled his chestnut horse and rode to the khan. The 
khan he did not salute ; he did not salute the khan's lady ; he 
demanded that they should at once tell him what they needed. The 
khan said : " There is no man like thee ; there is no horse like thy 
chestnut ; ride to the South country and bring hither the fifty-headed 
Manguis. If thou bringest him I will give thee the name of Eren 
tsain Gunuin Khara ! " Having heard these words the hero rejoiced, 
and rode to the South country. A year of riding he changed into a 
month ; a month of riding he changed into one day. On the road he 
met a white tent in which lived an old woman. " Who art thou, 
and whence comest thou ? " asked the old woman. " I go to obtain 
Manguis," replied the son of Elsuin the aged. " Thou wilt perish," 
said she ; " Manguis is strong, and thou wilt not overcome him." The 
hero rode further ; all at once his horse stopped. " Why hast thou 
stopped ? " said the son of Elsuin the aged. " See that black spot ; 
what is it, in your opinion ? " asked the horse. " I think it is far, far 
away — some mountain-ridge." " No ; that is Manguis ! " The horse 
told the hero to tie himself to her by a rope eighty-eight fathoms 
long, and himself to sit in a well, and that when Manguis fell upon 
his horse to catch him while he was fleeing and spurring the steed.* 
The son of filsuin the aged seized him (Manguis) and led him to 
the khan. When the wind blew in the khan's country, and the rain 
came, old people said, "That is Manguis going about; Gunuin Khara 
is leading him." 

Fifty-six days after Manguis was taken to the khan terror seized 
the khan, and he ordered Gunuin Khara to let him go. A month 
passed. The two councillors again came to the khan and began to 
advise him to send Gunuin Khara to a far country — " Order him to 
ride to the South country and procure for thee the daughter of Ereb suin 
Khan, the maiden Saikhan sange Abakhai." On the morrow the 
* This is not clear. (C.T.G.) 


khan calls Gunuin Khara. Gunnin Khara appears ; the khan he did 
not salute ; he did not salute the khan's lady. He demanded that 
they should at once tell him their command. The khan said : 
" There is no man like thee ; there is no horse like thy chestnut. 
Bring from the South country the daughter of Ereb suin Khan, 
namely, Saikhan sange Abakhai, and I will make thee khan." The 
hero rejoiced. His father and mother stopped him, and said that on 
the road he would meet a great red river, then a yellow sea. Who- 
ever drank their water died ; neither man nor beast was able to 
swim them. Still the hero rode on. A year of riding turned he 
into a month ; and a month of riding into a single day ; he rode 
to the great red river ; he rode down it seven days, and up it he 
rode seven days, but did not find a ford. He sat on the river-bank 
and saw two clouds of dust approaching him ; the one was his father 
and mother ; the other Manguis. Manguis warned him of the 
scheme which his relatives had plotted, but he would not return. 
He begs Manguis during his absence to protect his father and 
mother, and to keep guard over his cattle. Saying these words, 
Gunuin Khara rode further. When he rode down to the river his 
horse leapt across it. Further on the Sea Khort Shar Dalai was in 
his way ; across this, also, the horse leapt, but she hurt herself. 
Gunuin Khara wept. The horse said to him : " Do not weep ! 
Wait fifteen days and I will get well." Fifteen days Gunuin Khara 
remained in the one place, and occupied himself in hunting wild 
animals. Then he rode farther, and came to the land of Ereb suin 
Khan. Here he found a multitude of tents, and a nation was 
assembled. Gunuin Khara asked a man what the assembly means, 
and receives the reply that Tengrien Khu tekhie shatsgai and Urtu 
Shane Khun were to compete in three games as to which should possess 
Saildian sange Abakhai ; for such was the custom of that country. 
When Gunuin Khara came to the tent of the khan, the khan asked— 
" Who art thou, whence comest thou, and whither dost thou go ? " 
" I am from the North country," replied Gunuin Khara, " a subject 
of the White Khan, the son of Elsuin the aged ; my name is Eren 
tsain Gunuin Khara. Having heard that in thy country it is the 
custom that he who wishes to receive Saikhan sange Abakhai must 


contend in three games, I have come hither." " Tsa ! " * said the 
khan. " Contend ! " The three games were shooting, wrestling, and 
racing. On the morrow the three competitors began to shoot. There 
were appointed a black stone as big as a cow in the near distance, 
and a white stone as big as a sheep in the far distance ; these were 
the targets. Tengrien Khu and Urtu Share Khun shot short. 
Gunuin Khara" shot his arrow, not only reached the target, but flew 
straight to the mountains on the other side of the target. In 
wrestling Gunuin Khan laid both competitors on the ground ; in 
racing, also, the chestnut horse came in first. Erebsuin Khan had to 
give him Sange Abakhai. Three days they feasted. Sange Abakhai 
cautioned Gunuin Khara that when gifts were brought him he should 
not accept the mares, the cows, the camels, the rams ; but should ask 
that they might foal, calve, produce young camels and lambs. So 
Gunuin Khara did, and when he started, after them a whole herd 
stretched. On his arrival in his own country he became khan. — 
(Cheren Dorchja, a native of Zain Shaben.) 

35. KHABUL-Dei MeRGeN and Bogu (the Stag). 

There was a stag with 220 deer. In the same time lived Khabul- 
dei Mergen, who had a grey horse and a white dog. Once the stag 
went to the mountain Ulan Baidze, where Khabul-dei was then hunt- 
ing ; seeing the stag, the hunter shot an arrow, and the stag fled 
home with a broken leg. His mother said to him: '' Thou hast been 
to the mountain Ulan Baidze ; do not go there ; do not run in the 
shady wood ; the cold water of streams that do not freeze thou must 
not drink." With these words she died. Nevertheless, the stag 
determined to go to Ulan Baidze. The sound of an arrow was heard. 
The stag looked first to one side and then to the other ; one-half of 
his 220 deer were gone. '' Where can they have gone? " thinks the 
stag. He ran in the shady wood. Again shooting is heard, and the 
remaining deer are gone. Then Khobul-dei, riding his grey horse, 
and leading his white dog in a leash, began to pursue the stag. The 
stag fled. On the way he drank water from an unfreezing stream. 

* Tsa, perhaps same as Manchu Cha ! " All right ! " (C.T.G.) 


He could not run fast, so Khobul-dei catches him. The stag said to 
the mergen (hunter), " Thou hast killed all my people. When thou 
killest me, give my flesh to the seven-four animals, and lay my head 
in the valley of the Khunk." Having said this, the stag died. The 
mergen gave his flesh to the seven-four animals ; they ate, but did 
not eat it all up. The head he laid in the valley. When they came 
there was no head ; in place of it lay Elguhi ulan khada.* — (The 
same as above.) 

The River Tes was a bride ; the Askhuit was her bridegroom. In 
the place where they meet lies a peculiar cliff, the Tunche Tologoe. 
Tunche is the name given to the tent that is erected for a newly- 
married couple. The clifiF is so called because it is there that the two 
rivers enter into marriage. — (A Khotogait man.) 

The River Tes is a foal, and the beautiful River Terkh (flowing 
into the Chagan nor) a beautiful maiden. — (A Khalka man.) 


{^Continued from vol. iii. imge 366.) 
By the Rev. Dr. Richard Morris. 

The DiPi JATAKA.f 
The Panther and the Kid. 
ERY long ago the Bodhisat was reborn in a certain vil- 
lage in the Magadha country. When he grew up he 
abandoned worldly pleasure, adopted the life of a holy 
recluse, and attained to the supernatural knowledge arising 
from ecstatic meditation. 

* Elguin ulan khada, explained by narrator to be a smooth red rock. 
t Jdtaka Book, vol. iii. No. 426, p. 479. 


After dwelling for a long time in Himavat he went to Rajagaba 
to get salt and vinegar, and then he caused a hermitage to be made 
right in the midst of the cattle-runs upon the hills. 

At that time the goat-herds said : " Let the goats graze about 
here." Then they made them go on to the hill-runs, and there they 
lived and enjoyed themselves. 

One day as the goatherds were driving their flocks homeward at 
sunset a kid, straying far away, was not missed when the goats started 
(for their folds), and so was left behind. But a certain panther per- 
ceived the kid lagging in the rear, and stood at the entrance (of the 
pen) thinking, '<I'll eat that kid." She, too, having seen the panther, 
thought, " To-day I shall be killed ! I'll have a pleasant talk with 
this panther and cause him to be tender-hearted, and so by some 
artifice I'll save my life." Then even from afar she held pleasant 
converse with him, and while coming along spake the following 
gdthd ;— 

" Dear uncle, I hope you find yourself well, 
And comfort and ease enjoy in these wilds ; 
My mother doth wish to know how you fare, 
Well-wishers of you indeed are we all." 

On hearing this the panther thought : " This deceitful thing seeks 
to cajole me by saying * uncle.' She don't know how cruel I am." 
Then he uttered the following gdthd : — 

" On my tail have you stept, you false-speakiug kid. 
You have done me much harm, you careless young thing ! 
Do you think to cajole and escape me to-day 
By your calling me * uncle,' and other fine names ? " 

The other, on hearing this, replied, " Don't talk like that uncle " ; 
and then uttered the following gdthd : — 

" Your face was toward me, your tail was unseen ; 
In front did I come, and not in the rear. 
Far out of my reach was your appendage behind ; 
How then could I tread on the end of your tail ? " 

" There is no place to which my tail does not extend," replied the 
panther, as he spake the following gdthd : — 


" My tail is full long and reaches so far, 
As to cover the earth and quarters all four, 
And mountains and streams do fall in its way; 
How then could you miss to step on my tail? " 

When the kid heard this she thought, " This wicked creature is 
not to be influenced by friendly talk so I'll address him as an enemy." 
Then she spake the following gdthd : — 

" Long ago did I hear of the length of your cue, 
From my father and mother and brother besides. 
To avoid your long tail, O panther depraved, 
Through the air did I come, and touched not the ground." 

♦* I am aware," said he, " that you came through the air, but as 
you were making your way you came and caused me to lose my prey.'" 
Then he spake the following gdthd : — 

** O kid, I did see you come through the air. 
The beasts you alarm'd and frighted full sore ; 
They all took to flight and ran far away. 
And thus you quite spoilt the food that I eat." 

When the other heard that she was frightened to death and was 
unable to adduce any other reason. In a suppliant tone she said, " 
uncle, do not commit such a cruel deed but spare my life." The 
other seized her by the shoulders, even while she was making her 
appeal, then killed and devoured her. 

The moral of this story is given by the Buddha in the following 

" Thus e'en the little kid in piteous terms 
Did beg the panther spare her tender life ; 
But he, athirst for blood, did tear her throat, 
And then her mangled body quickly ate. 

" Unkind of speech, unjust the wicked is, 
Nor listens he at all to reason's voice. 
Nor friendly is with those that would be kind ; 
With force full strong he must be kept in bounds." 


The Vac/cZhaki Sukara Jataka.* 

Very long ago, when Brahmadatta reigned at Benares, the Bodhisat 
was re-born as a tree-sprite. At that time, close to Benares, there 
had sprung up a village of carpenters. 

A certain artisan, on going to the forest for wood, found a young 
hog that had fallen into a pit, took it home and brought it up. When 
it grew to its full size it became bigbodied, had curved tusks, and 
behaved itself properly. But because it was reared up by the car- 
penter it always went by the name of the carpenter's hog. When the 
carpenter was engaged in chopping down a tree the hog used to drag 
off the tree with its snout, laying hold of it with its mouth, collected 
the adze and hatchet, chisel and mallet, and took up the end of the 
measuring line. 

At last the carpenter, through fear lest any one should (steal and) 
eat it, brought it with him and let it loose in the wood. The hog 
went into the forest, and, on looking about for a safe and pleasant 
dwelling-place, saw among the mountains an immense cave, a pleasant 
abode abounding in tubers, roots, and fruits. He saw there several 
hundreds of hogs, and went and joined them. He also said to them, 
*' 1 happened to catch sight of you as I was wandering about just 
now, and since I have met with you and have come across this 
delightful spot I shall now at once take up my abode here along with 

" It's quite true," they replied, " that this is a pleasant place, but it 
is not free from danger." " I was aware of that, too, as soon as I 
saw you, because I noticed that those living here were lean and pale. 
But what have you to be afraid of here ? " 

*' A tiger comes here very early, takes whichever he sees and off he 
goes," they replied. 

" But does he take his prey constantly (day by day), or only at 
intervals ? " he asked. " Constantly," they answered. 

" But how many tigers are there ? " " Only one." " Are not so 

* Jdtaha Book, vol. ii. No. 283, p. 405. 


many of you a match for one?" "We are not a match for the 
tiger." " I'll capture the tiger if you'll only follow my instructions. 
Where does that tiger live ? " *' On yonder mountain," they replied. 
Making preparations for war he caused the hogs to be drilled at night, 
saying, '' War, indeed, is carried on in three modes : by immense 
numbers of troops, by hosts of chariots, and hosts of waggons." He 
therefore went about with an immense army (of hogs). 

As he was well acquainted with the slope of the ground be deter- 
mined that it would be best to carry on war in this region (where the 
hogs were living). In the centre he arranged and placed those that 
were suckling hogs along with their dams ; then he apportioned a 
place to the old sows, next to the hoglings ; then to the adult hogs; 
and, lastl}', he distributed the long-tusked hogs fit for war, very 
powerful hogs, to the number of forty thousand individuals. So in 
this part he made and placed a strong array of forces. In front of his 
own position he caused a circular pit to be dug, and behind it he con- 
structed a rampart (dyke) with a gradual incline like a mountain 

The dawn arose e'en while he, with his fighting-hogs to the number 
of sixty or seventy, was going about directing operations in this place 
and that, encouraging them to be of good heart and to fear nothing. 

When the tiger woke up he set out, aware that it was time (for 
feeding), and stood with his face toward the hogs. Standing on the 
mountain summit he opened his eyes and beheld the hogs. 

The carpenter's hog gave orders to his followers to stare back at 
the tiger (with a defiant air), and they did so. The tiger opened his 
jaws and drew in a breath. The hogs also did the same. The tiger 
relieved himself; so did all the hogs. In this manner they imitated 
whatever he did. 

The tiger thought to himself: " Formerly, when I used to look at 
the hogs, they tried to run off, but were unable to escape. To-day my 
enemies do not take to flight, but actually imitate whatever I do. 
There is, too, a commander of these hogs, standing on a rising ridge 
of ground (below). I don't think I shall get the better of them 
to-day." Then he turned back and went forthwith to his lair. 

But there was a certain false hermit who ate of the flesh of the 

Vol. 4. — Part 1. e 


animals taken by the tiger. When he saw him coming back empty- 
handed he entered into conversation with him, and spake the following 
gdthd :— 

" On other days in roaming o'er this wood, 
The hogs you overcame and slew the best. 
But you to day quite sad have here come back. 
Thy strength, tiger bold, is now all gone." 

On hearing this the tiger gave utterance to the following gdthd : — 

" These hogs erewhile were wont to scamper off, 
And seek their cave, each one in piteous plight ; 
But now in colunms firm they boldly grunt. 
'Tis hard to-day to beat them where they stand." 

Then that false ascetic excited the tiger to renewed effort, saying, 
" Don't be afraid, go ; and when you have given a roar, make a 
spring, then all affrighted they will break up and make off." 

The tiger on being stirred up to make a fresh attempt, plucked up 
courage, went back, and stood on the mountain top. 

The carpenter's hog stood between the two pits (i.e., between the 
excavated pit and the dyke). "Master," said the hogs, <* that big 
thief has returned." " Don't be alarmed, I'll capture him now." 

The tiger roared, and then bounded over the carpenter's hog, who, 
as he was making a spring, turned quickly aside and dropped straight 
into the excavated pit. The tiger, unable to moderate his speed, 
went rolling over and over across the face of the dyke, and fell into 
that part of the excavated pit where the entrance was very narrow, 
and there he was, as it were, completely jammed in. 

The carpenter's hog came out of the pit, and with lightning- speed 
struck his tusk into the tiger's groin, until he severed the region of 
the kidneys, then he buried his tusk into the flesh that possessed five 
savours. Then he wounded the tiger on the head, and, tossing him 
aside, he cast him outside the pit, saying to his followers, " Here, 
take hold of your foe ! " 

Those that came first got the tiger's flesh, but those that came later 
on went about smelling Ihe mouths of the others. 
" Tiger's flesh of some kind, is it not ? " 


The hogs were not quite pleased about it. 

The carpenter's hog, on noticing their looks, said : " Why, 1 pray 
are you dissatisfied ? " " Master," they replied, " on account of this 
one tiger that false hermit will be quite able to bring ten tigers.' 
" Who may that be ? " he inquired. '' An immoral ascetic," they 

" The tiger was in truth killed by me. Will he prove a match for 
me ?" So saying he went forth with his troop of hogs for the purpose 
of capturing the hermit. 

As the tiger tarried (and did not return) that false ascetic went in 
the direction the hogs were advancing, thinking that the hogs had 
surely captured the tiger. On seeing them marching along he fled, 
taking with him his eight requisites, which, on being pursued, he 
threw away, and with great haste got up an Udambara-tree. 

" Master ! " said the hogs ; " we are now done for : the ascetic has 
run away and got up a tree." " What sort of a tree ? " he asked. 
" An Udambara-tree," they replied. 

The commanding hog issued the following directions : " Let the 
sows bring water, let the hoglings dig up the ground, let the long- 
tuskers grub up the roots, and let the rest surround the tree and keep 
guard ! " 

While they were thus occupied the leader himself struck a single 
blow at the thick tapering root of the Udambara ('twas like striking 
with an axe), and at once caused the tree to fall. The hogs sur- 
rounding the tree brought the false ascetic to the ground, and rent 
him piecemeal until they had eaten all the flesh from the bone. 

Then they made the carpenter's hog sit down on the trunk of the 
Udambara-tree, and with water brought in a shell (belonging to the 
false ascetic) they consecrated him as king. 

From that time forward — it is said — until this day they made kings 
sit in a fine chair made of Udambara-wood and consecrated him with 
three shells. 

A sprite that dwelt in this dense wood beheld that wonderful sight 
as he stood in a hole in the trunk facing the hogs, and uttered the 
following gdthd : — 



" All hail I host of hogs assembled here. 
Your friendship rare and strange to-day I've seen, 
And now aloud proclaim what has been done. 
The hogs, I see, have slain a tiger fierce; 
By concord firm that bound them one and all 
They killed their foe and rid themselves of fear." 

The Dabbhapuppha Jataka.* 

In times long since past, when Bralimadatta reigned at Benares, the 
Bodhisat was reborn as a tree sprite. 

At that time a jackal named Sly (Mayavi), along with its mate, 
lived in a certain place near the bank of the river. It came to pass 
one day that the female jackal thus addressed her spouse : '' Husband, 
a longing has seized me. I wish to eat a rohita-fish." The male 
jackal replied : " Don't worry about it. I'll bring it you." 

Going to the bank of the river he muffled his feet with some jungle- 
grass and went straight along the bank. 

At that time two otters, named Dive?' (Gambhiracari) and Lander 
(Anativacan), stood on the bank of the river looking out for fish. 
One of them, Diver, catching sight of a big rohita-fish, dived into the 
water, and caught it by the tail ; but the fish was strong, and went 
along, dragging the otter with it. 

So he called out to Lander, " Here's a big fish that's quite enough 
for both of us. Come, and be my partner." 

While talking with the other he spake the following ^a^Aa ; — 

" I greet thee well, my friend, 
O hasten to my aid, 
A big fish have I caught 
That drags me here and there." 

The other, on hearing this, spake the following gdthd : — 

" Good luck to thee, my friend. 
Tight hold keep on that fish. 
I'll draw it quickly up. 
Like Garalaf does snakes." 

* Jataka Book, vol. ii. No. 400, p. 333. 

f i.e. Garala is a gigantic bird that carries on war with nagas and snakes. 



Then those two together brought out the rohita-fish, set it upon the 
land and killed it. On coming to divide it a quarrel arose, and they 
sat down, with the fish alongside them, unable to apportion the prey. 

At that moment the jackal came up to that place, and, on seeing 
him, both of them went forth at once to welcome him, saying, " This 
fish, friend Tawny, was captured by both of us together ; but a quarrel 
has arisen between us, because we are unable to divide it in such a 
way as to satisfy each of us. Do you divide it, and give each his 
just share." Thereupon they spake the following gdthd:^ 

" A bickering here you'll find. 
Pray listen, friend, to us ; 
Come end our quarrel now, 
And stop this fierce dispute." 

On hearing this the jackal, in explanation of his own power (as a 
settler of disputes), spoke the following gdthd : — 

" A just judge once was I, 
And weighty cases tried. 
Your quarrel soon I'll end. 
And this contention stop." 

And as he was making the division he uttered the next gdthd : — 

*' Let Lander take the tail, 
The head may Diver have; 
The judge the rest will take, 
The middle is his share." 

Having thus apportioned the fish the jackal said to the others : 
'' Don't quarrel, but eat both head and tail." Then, with the middle 
of the fish in his mouth, he went off under their very eyes. 

They, like one who had lost a law-suit of a thousand pence, sat 
down chap-fallen and spake the following gdthd : — 

" For some long time much food there would have been 
If we to-day no quarrel had begun ; 
But now the jackal sly has us deceived 
And carried off the middle of our fish." 

The jackal went home to his wife, delighted that she should get 
such a fine white fish to eat. 


On seeing liim come she joyfully exclaimed : — 

" Just as a king full glad would be, 
Did he a kingdom get, 
So I to-day rejoice to see 
My husband with his prey." 

Having uttered this gdthd, she inquired what means he had used 
to secure his booty — 

" How now did you that land-born are 
A river fish obtain ? 
I ask you, sir, pray tell me how 
Your booty you did gain." 

The jackal, informing her ©f the device he had used, spake the 
following gdthd : — 

" By litigation they are lean, 
Their fish they have quite lost. 
The otters now their suit have lost; 
Enjoy the fish, my dear." 

" Thus when disputes 'mong men arise 
To law they have recourse. 
The judge their suit full soon decides. 
And fees they have to pay; 
And though their means get less and less 
The king's chest fuller gets." 

The Duta Jataka.* 
The Messenger of Lust. 

Very long ago, when Brahmadatta reigned at Benares, the 
Bodhisat was re-born as his son. When he grew up he studied 
sciences at Takkasila, and, after the death of his father, he ascended 
the throne. 

He was very particular as to his food ; they therefore called him 
King Dainty. It is said that he partook of his food with such 
ceremonies and costly array as to expend a hundred thousand pence 
upon one dish of food ; for when he took his meals he did not par- 

* JataUa Booh, vol. ii. No. 216, p. 319. 



take of them within the palace, but, out of a desire to gain notoriety 
from the public, who watched the ceremonious arrangements con- 
nected with the meals, he caused a jewelled pavilion to be made, and 
when he took his meals he caused it to be decorated, and sat on a 
couch made of gold, surmounted by the white parasol of state. 
Surrounded by men and women servitors he ate his food out of a 
golden dish that cost a hundred thousand pence. 

Then a certain greedy man, on seeing all this serving of the king's 
food, longed to taste the fare, and was unable to restrain his desire. 
He, however, thought of a device, so, girding up his loins and throw- 
ing up his hands, he approached the king, shouting loudly — " Oh ! 
make way ! I am a messenger, a messenger ! '' 

At that time it was a custom among the people not to stop any one 
crying out " I am a messenger ! " Therefore, the multitude made 
way for him, and allowed him an opportunity of passing through their 

He rushed along into the king's presence, took a piece of meat 
from the dish and put it into his mouth. Then the sword-bearer 
drew out his sword with the intention of cutting off his head, but 
the king forbade him to strike, saying : " Don't be afraid ; eat 
away ! " 

After washing his hands he sat down. At the end of the meal the 
king ordered water and also betel-leaf to be given him. 

"Well, you say you are a 'messenger.' Whose messenger are 
you 1 " 

" O, great king, I am the messenger of lust and of the belly. 
Lust gave me a command to you — made me a messenger, and sent 
me here." Then he spake the following ^aiAas : — 

" The lust that makes men travel far and wide, 
And e'en from foes a boon to ask and take, 
Hath sent me on its errand here to-day. 
Restrain thy wrath, be angry not, O king. 

« The lust that all men day and night here sways, 
And makes them do its will and its behest, 
Hath sent me on its errand here to-day, 
Restrain thy wrath, be angry not, O king," 


The king, on hearing these words of his, thought — '' That's true. 
These beings are messengers of the belly, and go about urged on by 
lust, and lust causes them to go about. Oh ! how charmingly has 
this brahman spoken." So he was pleased with the man, and spake 
the following gdthd : — 

" To thee, O brahman, skilled in sacred lore, 
I give a thousand cows, all red of hue. 
A leader of the herd, a bull, I add. 
For thou hast said in jest the sober truth. 

" Both thou and I, nay, all that live on earth. 
Emissaries are, I trow, of carnal lust. 
Then why should I, a messenger like thee, 
Withhold my hand, and not give thee a boon? " 

And, moreover, when he had thus spoken, he was pleased, and 
bestowed upon the brahman great honour, saying : " Of a truth this 
great man has told us a thing that we had not previously heard or 
thought of." 

The Kuhaka Jataka.* 

In days long since past, when Brahmadatta reigned at Benares, 
there lived near a certain village a false and deceitful ascetic. A 
wealthy landowner made a hermitage for him in the forest, and there 
let him live, and provided him with the best of food, prepared in his 
own house. Believing that ascetic to be " virtuous," the landowner, 
for fear of thieves, brought one hundred golden pieces to his her- 
mitage, and buried them, saying, " Reverend sir, perhaps you'll have 
an eye to it." f Then the ascetic replied, " It is not fit, sir, to talk 
thus to those who have renounced the world. We have no desire at 
all for another's wealth." Believing the other's word the landowner 
departed, saying, *' Well ! be it so." 

The wicked ascetic said to himself, "On so much wealth as this 1 
shall be able to live." 

* Jatalia Book, vol. i. p. 375. 

f This phrase admits of a double meaning, The ascetic takes oloh-te in the 
sense of " to look at " (with a longing eye). 


After some days had passed he took the gold and hid it in a 
certain place on the road (outside the village), then he returned and 
stayed on in the hermitage. The next day, having taken his meals in 
his friend's house, he said to him, " I have, sir, lived a long time 
dependent upon you; but since to those dwelling too long in one place 
there is association with men, and this fellowship is indeed a sin in 
those devoted to a religious life, I shall therefore take leave of you 
and go (elsewhere)." 

Though the landowner besought him again and again to stay on, 
he did not wish to remain. Then said he, " Since such is the case, 
sir, take your departure." He accompanied him as far as the entrance 
to the village, and then turned back. The ascetic, going on a little 
way, thought to himself, " I must outwit this yeoman." Having 
placed a single blade of grass in his long, matted hair, he made his 
way back. " How is it, reverend sir, that you have come back ? " 
asked the landowner. " Sir," he replied, " a blade of grass from the 
roof of your house clung to my hair. Ascetics must not take any- 
thing that is not given them (not even a single blade of grass), there- 
fore I've come back with it." 

The landowner said, " Go, sir, since you have given it up." Then 
he thought, " This holy man seems to me to be very sensitive, for he 
does not take even a blade of grass belonging to another." He was 
much pleased with the ascetic, saluted him and bade him good-bye. 
At that time the Bodhisat, on his way to a border village to transact 
business, took up his abode in that quarter. On hearing what the 
ascetic had been saying he thought, "Surely this depraved ascetic 
intends to carry something off." He inquired of the yeoman, " Have 
you, sir, entrusted anything to the care of that ascetic ? " " Yes, sir," 
he replied, *' a hundred gold pieces." " Well then you had better go 
after him and question him about it," said the Bodhisat. He went to 
the hermitage, but, not finding him there, speedily returned, saying, 
" It is not there, sir." 

" Well, since your gold has not been taken by any one else, it must 
have been taken by that deceitful ascetic. Come let's follow after him 
and seize him." Rushing after him, they caught that artful ascetic. 


beat him both on his hands and feet, made him bring back the gokl, 
which they took possession of. 

When the Bodhisat saw the gold he said, " You stuck to and 
carried off a hundred palas of gold, though you did not suffer a blade 
of grass to stick to you." Upbraiding him, he uttered the following 
gdihd : — 

" Thy words were smooth and soft, O crafty monk, 

Full friendly was thy speech, O artful saint. 

No blade of clinging grass thou took'st away, 

Yet thou didst steal and carry off our gold." 

After the Bodhisat had thus rebuked him he gave him good advice: 
" !N'ever again, deceitful ascetic, do such an act." Then (after his 
death) he went to receive the reward due to his deeds. 

The MANist^KARA JAtaka.* 

In times long since past, when Brahmadatta reigned at Benares, 
the Bodhisat was reborn in a certain village, in the family of a 
brahman. When he grew up he saw the disadvantages of worldly 
pleasure ; and, having crossed three mountain ranges, he dwelt in a 
hermitage as a holy anchorite. Not far from him there was a jewelled 
cave, in which lived some thirty hogs. Not far off the cave there 
dwelt a lion, whose shadow appeared in the crystal cave. 

On seeing the lion's shadow the hogs were terrified and alarmed, 
and got thin and pale. They thought to themselves, " On account of 
the brightness of this crystal (cave) does this shadow appear ; we'll 
make it dirty and dull." Going to a pool at no great distance off, 
they rolled themselves in the mud, came back, and rubbed them- 
selves against the crystal cave. Through being rubbed by the hogs' 
bristles the cave became brighter. The hogs not seeing a means (of 
making the crystal dull) said, " We'll ask the anchorite what plan 
to adopt for making this crystal cave lose its lustre." They paid a 
visit to the Bodhisat, saluted him, stood on one side (at a respectful 
distance), and uttered the following gdthds : — 

* Jatalta Booh, vol. ii. No. 285, p. 417. 


" We thirty hogs for seven long years 

Within this cave have dwelt. 
* We'll spoil this lustrous crystal cave.' 

This was our firm resolve. 

" The more we rubbed, the more it shone 
(Our brains it puzzled sore). 
O brahman true, we you entreat 
To say what's to be done.'* 

Then the Bodhisat, by way of informing them, spake the next 
gdthd : — 

" This crystal gem is pure and bright,* 
No lustre does it lack ; 
No power have you to make it dull. 
Away with you, ye hogs I " 

The Kara JATAKA.f 
The drunhen Crows. 

Very long ago, when Brahmadatta reigned at Benares, the 
Bodhisat was re-born as a sea-sprite. 

It happened that a certain crow, with his wife, came to the sea- 
shore in search of food. At that time folks, after making naga- 
offerings on the sea-shore, of milk, ghee, fish, flesh, spirits, &c., went 
away home. 

The crow, on going to that spot where the offerings were left, 
noticed the milk, and the rest. Having partaken of the milk, he 
drank a good drop of the spirituous liquors ; so both crows got quite 
drunk. They sat down on the beach and prepared to bathe, saying, 
** We'll enjoy some sea-sport." 

By chance a great wave came, caught the female crow and 
ingulphed her in the sea. Then a fish seized and devoured her. On 
this the male crow roared and cried, saying, " My wife is dead." 

Many crows on hearing the noise of his lamentation flocked 
together and asked him why he cried so. 

♦ i.e. naturally. It is a real gem, and not glass or paste, 
t Mtaha Book, vol. i. No. 146, p. 4^7. 


" Your (poor) friend," answered he, *' while bathing on the beach 
was carried ofif by a big wave." Whereat they all cried and roared 
and made a general wailing. 

Then this thought occurred to them — " What's the use, indeed, of 
this sea-water to us ? We'll bale out the water, empty the sea, and 
then get our friend out." 

Then they all went on filling their mouths and spitting out the 
water. At last their throats got dry with the salt-water, and they all 
flew up and went on shore for a spell of rest. Their jaws were weary, 
their mouths dry, and their eyes red for want of sleep ; then they 
addressed one another — " Oh ! how's this ? We have taken the sea- 
water and have poured it away outside {i.e., on the land), but the 
places from which we have taken the water are at once filled up again. 
We find it impossible to empty the sea. 

" E'en now our weary jaws do ache, 
Our mouths indeed are parched and dry. 
We work and toil, no rest we have, 
Yet still again the sea doth fill." 

And when they had thus spoken they made a great lamentation, 
saying : " This crow had, indeed, such a (beautiful) beak, such well- 
rounded wings, such a (lovely) complexion and figure, such a sweet 
voice, and she is lost to us (for ever) through this thief of a sea." 
While they were thus bewailing, the sea-sprite appeared to them in a 
horrible form and put them to flight. 

And in this way they (the sprites of the sea) got peace. 

Sabbada^ha Jataka.* 

Long, long ago, when Brahmadatta reigned at Benares, tlie 
Bodhisat, who was the domestic priest of the reigning sovereign, was 
well versed in the three vedas and the eighteen sciences, and was 
well acquainted, moreover, with a charm {mantra) for conquering the 
(whole) earth. (The meditation-charm is called the earth -conquering 

* Jdtaha Booh, vol. ii. No. 241, p. 243. 


spell.) It came to pass one day that while the Bodhisat was sitting 
on a stone seat in a certain part of the palace-courtyard he resolved 
to repeat the spell, and did so. It is said that it was not possible to 
impart the spell to any one, except in a proper formula ; he, there- 
fore, repeated it in a convenient spot (where no one could listen). 
While he was reciting it, a certain jackal lying in a hole heard and 
learnt the spell. It is said that in a previous state of existence the 
jackal had been a brahman familiar with the charm for conquering 

As soon as the Bodisat had repeated it, he arose, saying, " Surely I 
I know this spell now." The jackal, leaving his hiding-place, said : 
" (), brahman, I know this spell even better than you do ! " When 
he had thus spoken he scampered off. 

The Bodhisat, knowing that the jackal would do great mischief, 
followed him for some distance, crying out, " Seize (him) ! seize 
(him) ! " 

The jackal fled and made his way into the forest, and, as he went 
along, he gave a certain she-jackal a slight nip on the body. " Well, 
sir ! " said she. " Are you acquainted with me or not ? " he asked. 
*' I am not," she replied. 

He repeated the spell for conquering the earth, and so ruled over 
many hundreds of jackals, and also brought around him all quad- 
rupeds (elephants, lions, tigers, hogs, deer, &c.) 

And, moreover, when he had done this he became a king, Sabba- 
dadia by name, and made a certain she-jackal his principal queen. 

A lion stood on the back of two elephants while Sabbada^ha, the 
jackal king, with his chief queen, the she-jackal, sat on the lion's 
back, and was highly honoured. 

By reason of his great distinction he became remiss, pride arose 
within him, and he resolved to capture the city of Benares. Attended 
by all the quadrupeds he came to a place near Benares. (His host 
extended to the distance of twelve yojanas. ) While in this position 
he sent a message to the king that he should either give up his 
kingdom or do battle. 

The inhabitants of Benares, who were greatly terrified and alarmed, 
remained within the city, the gates of which they kept closed. 


The brahman drew near to the king, saying, *' king, fear not ! 
Let it be my task to wage war with the jackal, Sabbada^ha, for no 
one else but me is capable of warring against him ! " and thus he 
relieved the fears of both the king and citizens. 

Then he ascended the watch-towers over the gates for the purpose 
of ascertaining what means Sabbada^ha would use to take possession 
of the kingdom, and cried out : " 0, Sabbadaiha, what will you do in 
order to take this kingdom ? " 

" I will cause a lion's roar to be uttered, and, having terrified the 
multitude with the sound, I will take possession of the city." 

When the Bodhisat had ascertained the means to be employed, he 
came down from the tower and gave orders, by beat of drum, that all 
the dwellers in the city of Benares within an entire circuit of twelve 
yojanas should plaster up the orifices of their ears with bean- meal. 
The populace, as soon as they heard the edict that had been pro- 
claimed, having got hold even of the cats, plastered up both their own 
ear-orifices and also those of all the (domestic) quadrupeds with 
bean-meal, so that it was not possible, indeed, for them to hear a 
sound made by another. 

Then the Bodhisat again ascended the watch-tower, and cried out, 
'' Sabbadaiha ! " 

" Well, what is it, brahman ? " he replied. 

" What is it you are going to do in order to take possession of this 
kingdom ? " he asked. 

" I'll frighten the multitude by causing a lion's roar to be uttered, 
and, having destroyed the lives of all, I'll take the kingdom." 

" You are not able," said the brahman, " to cause a lion's roar to 
be uttered, for maned-lion-kings of noble birth will not obey an old 
jackal like you." 

The jackal, obstinate and proud, replied : " Never mind the other 
lions ; I'll e'en cause the lion, on whose back I am sitting, to utter a 
loud roar." 

" Well, then, do so if you are able ! " 

Striking with his foot the lion on whose back he was sitting, the 
jackal bade him roar. 


The lion, pressing his mouth on the elephant's frontal globe, thrice 
roared an indisputable lion's roar. 

The elephants became alarmed, and caused" the jackal to fall at 
their heels ; then they trod upon his head and crushed him to pieces. 
There forsooth Sabbada^ha lost his life. 

The elephants, too, on hearing the lion's' roar, were frightened to 
death, and, wounding one another, they also there suffered loss of life. 
Except the lions, all the quadrupeds (the rest of the deer, hogs, &c. 
save the hares and cats) lost their lives in that place. 

The lions then made off and entered the forest. For twelve 
yojanas round there was nothing but a mass of flesh. The Bodhisat, 
coming down from the tower, caused the gates of the city to be 
opened. And by beat of drum throughout the city he issued the 
following order : — " Having removed the bean-meal from your ears, 
let all those desirous of flesh take it." 

The populace ate what moist-flesh they could, desiccated the 
remainder, and made dried-flesh of it. In that time, it is said, that 
the making of dried-flesh arose. 


HE first volume of the Folk-Lore Record contains an 
article entitled *' Notes on Folk-Tales," in which Mr. 
Ealston, after considering certain proposed classifications 
of such stories, says, " Their weak point is that in them 
too much attention is generally paid to the mere framework of the 
story, the setting, which often varies with time and place ; more stress 
being often laid upon the accidental than the essential parts of a tale." 
Mr. Ralston therefore suggests another classification, based on the 
general character of each story, where, in the first place, folk-tales are 
divided into mythological and non-mythological. The mythological 
stories are then classed according to the principal myth they illustrate 


or embody, and the non-mytliological ones are divided into moral 
stories, puzzles, jokes, &c., " tlie moral stories being arranged 
according to the leading ideas which were in the mind of the teacher 
who first shaped them." Mr. Ralston gives several illustrations of his 
system, and he states that almost all the tales about grateful beasts 
are " expansions of moral apologues" intended to teach that man ought 
to behave with kindness towards animals. In the same class he also 
includes the stories relating to destiny ; as, although connected with 
the mythological class, " they are intended to inculcate the doctrine 
that human life is ruled by fate." Another large group of stories, at 
the same time moral and mythological, are those, says Mr. Ralston, in 
which supernatural personages act " in such a manner as to teach, 
though unintentionally, a moral lesson." In all these tales two 
persons of opposite character are contrasted : the one meritorious and 
the other undeserving, the former being rewarded and the latter 
punished. Next in importance to the moral and mythological stories, 
Mr. Ralston places the numerous tales which appear to have had no 
higher purpose than to amuse, or at most to cause the exercise of 
ingenuity. In conclusion, Mr. Ralston gives a classification of the 
two hundred folk-tales collected by the Brothers Grimm : of which he 
says 103 are non-mythological. In this division are 50 comic stories, 
and 43 moral or didactic. Of the latter, "eleven are animal- tales ; 
five belong to the ' grateful beasts ' cycle ; and five to the group of 
stories in which good and bad conduct are contrasted and recom- 
pensed ; two are in praise of filial reverence and two of industry ; and 
two show that ' murder will out.' The remaining sixteen illustrate as 
many different wise saws or moral axioms. There are also two robber- 
tales, which demand a separate place." As to the ninety-three tales 
in the mythological division, thirty-five are classed together as being 
"Husk Myths" or other transformation-stories, or as having magic 
and witchcraft for their subject. Of the remaining stories twenty are 
classed as " Eclipse Myths " or other nature-myths, thirty-one are 
described as " Demon Stories," and seven are unclassified. Two of 
these give the history of Thumbling, one refers to the myth of the 
Golden Goose, one to the association between snakes and treasures, 
and one accounts for the existence of the moon. 


No one can read Mr. Ralston's " Notes " without being convinced 
that the " moral " element must be recognised as a very important one 
in connection with folk-tales. If we place ourselves in the position of 
those who originated these stories, we shall see that in many cases at 
least the incidents related occupy a secondary place. The teller of 
the tale has usually a motive, a lesson to enforce by it. This " moral ' ' 
is the kernel or central idea, of which the incidents are the clothing or 
accompaniments. No doubt, occasionally the object was simply to 
amuse, but generally it was to teach a truth. The truth may be 
intellectual, a conclusion arrived at as the result of the observation 
of nature or of the experiences of every-day life, or it may have a 
moral or religious character. The author of Bible Folk-Lore, who 
applies to Semitic myths the principles by which Mr. Max Miiller and 
others explain the myths of the Aryan peoples, says : *' The sun and 
the cloud, the river and the rain, the wind, the storm, the tree, and 
the star, were to savage man living beings of wonderful nature. The 
fire was a beast, which crept and devoured, and which might be 
wounded by a spear. The very stones and woods and hills had living 
spirits within them, and the most familiar acts of animal-life — growth 
and reproduction — were conceived to account for the phenomena of 
the heavens and earth." This may be perfectly true, and those ideas 
may be embodied in the so-called mythological stories, but I much 
doubt whether many of these were originally told with the object 
merely of expressing such ideas. The motive would rather be a 
prudential one, having for its aim to enforce a lesson of worldly 
experience or of moral or religious truth. Of course, the vehicle for 
conveying the lesson must be acceptable to the popular mind, and 
therefore it would introduce the marvellous incidents with which folk- 
stories generally abound. According to this view we may expect to 
find in most of the " traditional narratives " to which Mr. Gomme 
gives the first place in his classification * of the subjects of the science 
of Folk-Lore a motive which at first gave them their practical value, 
and which probably might often be identified in the popular sayings 
or proverbs of Folk-Speech. Such tales as those referred to in Mr. 

* Folk-Lore Journal^ vol. iii. p. 5. 

Vol. 4. — Part 1. p 


Clodd's paper, entitled " The Philosophy of Punchkin," ante^ vol. ii. 
are intended to teach a lesson beyond the philosophy which that able 
writer finds in them. No doubt they " embody that early system of 
thought, if system it can be called, which confuses ideas and objects, 
illusions and realities, subjects and shadows," and they may be evidence 
of *' the survival of primitive belief m one or more entities in the body, 
yet not of it, which may leave that body at will during life, and which 
perchance leaves it finally, to return not, at death." Such stories, 
however, do more ; for they teach the triumph of love or goodness 
over evil, even though aided by the power of magic. The incident of 
the existence of the soul apart from the body appears to me to be 
introduced merely as presenting an additional difficulty to be con- 
tended with, and to show that no obstacle is too great to be over- 
come : as expressed in the saying, " Love will find out the way." 

Mr. Clouston in his edition of The Booh of Sindihad * well re- 
marks: " It is a peculiarity of fairyland that there are certain rooms 
which the fortunate mortal who has entered the enchanted palace is 
expressly forbidden to enter, or doors which he must on no account 
open, or cabinets which he must not unlock, if he would continue 
in his present state of felicity." Many stories referring to that 
prohibition have been brought together by Mr. Sidney Hartland,t 
who regards it as the central thought of the class to which such 
stories belong. He is not satisfied with this conclusion, however. 
He supposes the story of the forbidden chamber to have developed 
" from the slaughter of his wife and children by a capricious or 
cannibal husband, to a marriage and murder for previously-incurred 
vengeance, or for purposes of witchcraft, and thence to a murder 
by a husband for disobedience, express or implied. At this point 
the fatal curiosity comes upon the scene as one mode of accounting 
for the disobedience ; and when once this element is introduced 
it proves a most potent influence, and the story branches off and 
blossoms in all directions." I cannot see, however, any occasion to go 
beyond the '* fatal curiosity" for the original idea on which all the 

* P. 308, Appendix. 

t Tlie Folh-Lore Journal, vol. iii. pp. 198-242. 


stories referred to by Mr. Hartland are based. Nor do I see anything 
in the Algonquin or Sicilian stories that can require us to regard them 
as marking stages of development of the forbidden chamber myth, or 
otherwise than as different modes of representing the same idea of the 
evil of giving way to the feeling of undue curiosity.* 

That large classes of folk-stories were framed to convey a moral 
lesson may be shown by reference to the fables ascribed to iEsop, 
which were intended to inculcate '•'■ tales of practical morality, drawn 
fi'om the habits of the inferior creation." Again, if we refer to the 
Folk-Tales of India^ translated from the Buddhist Jataha, and contri- 
buted by the Rev. Dr. Richard Morris to the Folk-Lore Journal^ we 
see that many of those birth-stories contain one or more gdthds 
enforcing a moral or practical lesson. As an example may be quoted 
the last verse of the Daddabha Jdtaka,1i or "The Flight of thd 
Beasts," which runs — 

" But they who walk in virtue's pleasant paths 
Full wary are ; in calmness they delight, 
In time of dread no cowardice they show, 
But stand full firm, and none can them beguile." 

The moral of the Sumsumdra Jdtaka, or " The Monkey that left its 
heart on a tree," is of a different character. Speaking to the crocodile 
the Bodhisat in the form of an ape says [ante, vol. iii. p. 128] :— 

" Oh I a precious big body you've got it is true, 
Yet little good sense % to match it have you. 
To shoot one you tried, O false crocodile. 
So you have I tricked, now go where you will." 

The headings of other stories sufficiently declare the moral they are 
designed to enforce. Thus, we have the value of kind words, no evil 
deed is unseen, pride will have a fall, the punishment of avarice, &c. 

* This lesson is taught also by the Kafir story of Tlie Bird that made milk, 
where children suffer for their disobedient curiosity in looking at a bird, on 
which depended their father's well-being, and which answers therefore to the elf 

Lof the Algonquin. — Kafir Folh-Lorey by George McCall Theal, p. 29. 
f The Folk- Lore Journal, vol. iii. p. 124. 
X In Grimm's '* King of the Golden Mountain " the giants say "little men 
have often wise heads." 


The mere fact that no " moral" is actually drawn by the narrator 
from a folk-tale is evidence merely that the original intention with 
which such tales were framed has been lost siglit of in the course of 
ages. At the present day, indeed, the incidents have come to occupy 
among us the primary place, the stories themselves being regarded as 
sources of amusement rather than of instruction. It will be gathered 
from the foregoing remarks that I am inclined to go much fui'ther 
than even Mr. Ralston in seeking a " moral" in folk-tales. I should 
expect to find it in most of his mythological stories ; and to test how 
far the view here advocated is consistent with fact I have made a 
classification of the seventy-eight tales contained in the first volume of 
Grimm's work, based on the " moral " they enforce. The following 
tables give the result arrived at, the number added to the title of each 
story showing the order in which it stands in the English translation * 
of Grimm's work. When a story comes under more than one heading 
it is mentioned in the subordinate class by reference only. 

1. The superiority of Goodness (tyjjijied by Beauty) and Love over 
Evil (although aided by Magic). 

A. The power of Beauty [awd Goodness'], 
{a) The Frog Prince (1). 

(h) The Twelve Brothers (9). 

(c) Little Brother and Sister (11). 

{d) The Three Little Men in the Wood (12). 

(e) Rapunzel (16). 

(/) Cinderella (21). 

{g) The Six Swans (49). 

{h) Briar Rose (50). 

(?) Little Snow White (52). 

{j) Allerleiraugh, or Coat of All Colours (65). 

{k) The Twelve Hunters (67). 

B. Love superior to Magic {Evil), 
(a) The Seven Crows (25). 

(h) The Handless Maiden (31). 

* Published by Messrs. Addey & Co. (1853). 


(c) Jorinde and Joringel (58). 
{d) Fir Apple (59). 
(e) The Two Brothers (61). 
(/) The Pink (75). 
{g) The Gold Children (78). 
Also 1. A. {h), (e), (g), 

c. Goodness ti^umphant over Evil {Magic). 
(«) Hansel and Grcthel (14). 
{b) Old Mother Frost (24). 
(c) The Table, the Ass, and the Stick (35). 
{d) The Robber-Bridegroom (40). 
{e) The Almond Tree (47). 
(/) Roland (55). 

Also 1. A.; 1. B. (6), (c), ((/),(/); 2. (.); 3. (a), (e) ; 4. (g). 

2. Simplemindedness (or Stupidity) attended with good fortune. 

(a) The tale of one who travelled to learn what shivering 
meant (4). 

(b) The Good Bargain (7). 

(c) The Three Spinsters (13). 
(cZ) The Three Languages (33). 
{e) The Golden Bird (39). 

(/) The Knapsack, the Hat, and the Horn (53). 
{g) The Little Farmer (57). 
(h) The Queen Bee (62). 
{i) The Three Feathers (63). 
(j) The Golden Goose (64). 

Also 1. B. («); 3. (a), {h)i 10. c. (a). 

In (a), (J), (c), (<Z), and («) stupidity is the characteristic, and 
in (h) and (^) cunning is added. 

3. Ability, or Valour^ rewarded (by royal marriage), 
(a) The Three Snake Leaves (15). 

(6) The White Snake (17). 

(c) The Valiant Little Tailor (19). 

{d) The Riddle (22). 

{e) The Singing Bone (28). 


Also 1. B. (b), (e), (/); 2. (a), (5), (c), (d), (e), (t), (j); 
10. c. (a). 

4. TTef (Cunning) superior to (mere) Strength or Power. 
(a) Thumbling (36). 

(h) The Travels of Thumbling (45). 
(c) The Feather Bird (46). 
{d) Old Sultan (48). 
(e) Rumpelstiltskin (54). 
(/) The Dog and the Sparrow (56). 
(jg) How Six travelled through the World (70). 
Qi) The Wolf and the Man (71). 
(0 The Wolf and the Fox (72). 
(7 ) The Fox and God-mother Wolf (73). 
Also 1. B. {d), c. {a) ; 3. (c) ; 10. c. {a). 

5. Cunning overreaching Simplicity. 

(a) Cat and Mouse in Partnership (2). 
(J) The Wonderful Musician (8). 
(c) Clever Grethel (76). 

Also 2. (g); 4. (A), (0, (J). 

6. Villainy and Cunning overreaching itself. 

(a) The Wolf and the Seven Little Goats (5). 
{h) Little Eed Cap (26). 
(c) The Rogue and his Master (68). 
Also ]. c. (c). 

7. Bad Conduct punished. 

A. Forbidden Curiosity. 

(a) The Woodcutter's Child (3). 

{b) Faithful John (6). 

(c) The Feather Bird. \_See 4 (c).] 

B. Disobedience. 

(a) The Gold Children. \_See 1. b (^).] 
(&) The Old Witch (43). 

Also Q. {a), (by, 7. A. (a), (J), (c). 


c. Greediness or Discontent. 

(a) The Fisherman and his Wife (18). 
(h) The Little Mouse, the Little Bird, and the Sausage (23). 
Also 4. (a), (g). 

D. Cruelty to Animals. 

(a) The Dog and the Sparrow. [^See 4. (/)]. 
E3. Foolishness. 

(a) Clever Alice (34). 

(b) Catherine and Frederick (60). 

F. Pride. 

(a) King Thrushbeard (51). 

G. Boasting. 

(a) The Fox and the Cat (74). 
H. Infidelity of Wife. 

{a) The Wedding of Mrs. Fox (37). 

I. Neglect of Parents. 

(a) The Old Man and his Grandson (77). 

8. Humility rewarded. 

(a) King Thrushbeard. \_See 7. (6 a)]. 
Also 1. A.; 7. A. (a). 

9. Kindness requited. 

{a) The Little Elves (38). 

Also 1. B. (.), (^); 2. (0, {h\ (; ) ; 3. (h) ; 7. c. (a). 

10. Miscellaneous. 

A. Unmerited Misfortune, 
(a) Herr Korbes (41). 

B. Murder will out. 

(a) The Singing Bone. \_See 3. (e)]. 
{h) The Two Brothers. [aS'cc 1. b. (c)]. 
c. Power of Luck. 

(a) The Giant with three Golden Hairs (28). 

(b) The three Luck-Children (69). 
Also 2. (/). 


D. Vagabondism. 

(a) The Pack of Kagamuffins (10). 
Also 10. A. (a) ; f. (a). 

E. The Love of Life, 

(a) The Musicians of Bremen (27). 
Also 4. (d). 

F. The Power of Music. 

(a) The Wonderful JMusician (8). 

G. God-Parent Stories, 
{a) The Godfather (42). 

(b) The Godfather Death (44). 

(c) The Fox and Godmother Wolf (73). 

11. Accumulative Effects. 

(a) The Spider and the Flea (30). 
And see 10. d. (a). 

12. Gothamite Stories. 

(a) The Straw, the Coal, and the Bean (20). 

(b) The Discreet Hare (32). 

(c) The Eabbit's Bride (66). 

Also 2. (b) (g) ; 5. (e) ; 7. e. (a) (b) ; 10. A. (a) ; 
c. (6) ; D. (a) ; e. (a). 

Some errors there are, no doubt, in the above classification, but I 
think it will be found on the whole to be correct from the " moral " 
point of view. That the incidents of many of the stories in question 
have reference to the phenomena of nature* is far from impossible, but 
none the less they were originally intended to " point a moral " rather 
than to " adorn a tale." 

There is a special feature of some of Grimm's stories which deserves 
notice. It is evident that sometimes the moral enforced was intended 
to have special application to a certain class of persons. Thus, the 

* Most of the stories in class 1. A. refer to golden objects, and probably they 
had some reference to the sun or light. 


most fortunate son is usually the youngest, whether on the folk-tale 
principle that as the youngest he was the most simple, and therefore 
likely to be most lucky, or as a recompense for his position in the 
family, which is one of inferiority and therefore of poverty, is doubtful. 
The hero in the following stories is the younger or youngest son, 
unless, as in Nos. 2, 4, and 5, he is the only son, and poor or stupid: — 

1. Tale of one who travelled to know what shivering meant. 

2. The Three Snake Leaves. 

3. The Singing Bone. 

4. The Giant with Three Golden Hairs. 

5. The Three Languages. 

6. The Table, the Ass, and the Horn. 

7. The Golden Bird. 

8. The Knapsack, the Hat, and the Horn. 

9. The Two Brothers. 

10. The Queen Bee. 

11. The Three Feathers. 

12. The Golden Goose. 

13. The Three Luck-Children. 

To these may he added : — 

14. Thumbling (who was an only son); and 

15. The Feather-Bird (in which the youngest [third] daughter 
was the most prudent). 

A chief object of some other stories appears to have been to 
denounce the cruel treatment to which children were exposed at the 
hands of their step-mothers or step-sisters. The following are such 

stories : — 

1. Little Brother and Sister. 

2. The Little Men in the Wood. 

3. Hansel and Grethel, 

4. Cinderella. 

5. Old Mother Frost. 

6. The Almond Tree. 

7. The Six Swans. 


8. Little Snow- White. 

9. Eoland. 

(The Step-mother appears in all these stories, except 
Nos. 6 and 7, in which, and in Nos, 1, 3, 4, and 6, 
Step-sisters are mentioned.). 
10. Fir-Apple. 

(Here the place of the Step- mother is taken by the Old 

The idea entertained by the ancients that some persons understood 
the language of animals is expressed in the following stories : — 

1. The Twelve Hunters. 

2. FaithfulJohn. 

3. The Two Brothers. 

4. The Three Languages. 
5- The Golden Bird. 

6. The White Snake. 

Finally, the association of the idea of wisdom with the snake is 
shown in the following : — 

1. The Snake Leaves. 

2. The White Snake. 

In conclusion, I will consider shortly how far the partial classifi- 
cation attempted above agrees with the views expressed by Mr. 
Ralston. There is not much to be said in connection with the non- 
mythological stories, except that those in which riddles or some other 
kind of problem is propounded are entitled to be regarded as " moral " 
where, as in The Riddle, the problem partakes of the nature of the 
difficult task which is so common in folk -tales. As to Mr. Ealston's 
mythological stories, it seems to me that the first class, which consists 
of transformation tales and those of magic and witchcraft, as well as 
the " Eclipse-Myths," contain a very important moral. They proclaim 
the ultimate triumph of good over evil, as well as, generally, that good 
and evil conduct meet with their just reward. The same may be said 
of many of Mr. Ralston's " Demon Stories," particularly the large 



group " referring to the demon's struggles with mankind, in which 
he is ultimately worsted, being either destroyed, or at least robbed, 
kicked, or otherwise humiliated." In the tales of " The Giant with 
Three Golden Hairs," '' Thumbling," and the "puzzling myth" of the 
" Golden Goose," the moral lesson is no less observable, and thus we 
may find in all Grimm's stories, except those of the comic class, 
a "motive," which must be regardsd as the central truth, and which 
may form a link of connection between tales, the want of similarity 
in the setting of which gives them the appearance of being essentially 
different. C. Staniland Wake. 


N endeavouring to state the Principles of the Classifi- 
cation of Folk-lore, the questions that first arise are : 
What is Folk-lore ? and what are its relations as a 
Science to the other Sciences ? The answer to these 
questions must be the first Principle of the Classification of Folk-lore. 
And it may, perhaps, be approximately formulated in the following 
terms : — 

I. Folk-lore is knowledge of Folk-life, or the life of the Uncul- 
tured Classes, as distinguished from Culture-lore, knowledge of 
Individualised Life, or the Life of the Cultured Classes; and the 
generalisations arising from these two knowledges, or the Sciences 
of Folk-life and of Culture-life, are complementary and mutually 
corrective divisions of the same Mental and Moral Sciences — the 
Historical Sciences, namely, of Mental Development and of Civil 

I am glad to find in the Folk-Lore Journal for April 1885 two 
definitions of Folk-lore implying a conception of it similar to that 


now defined, and on which I have been working for many years past. 
Mr. Sidney Hartland further explains his previously stated definition 
of Folk-lore as " Anthropology dealing with the psychological pheno- 
mena of uncivilized man." And Senor Machado y Alvarez defines 
it as " The Science which has for its object the study of indiffe- 
rentiated or anonymous Humanity, from an epoch which may be 
considered as its infancy down to our own day." But while my 
definition of Folk-lore as knowledge of Folk-life thus agrees so far 
with the definitions of these writers it does not agree with Mr. Wheat- 
ley's definition (Journal, vol. ii. p. 347): " Folk-lore is the unwritten 
learning of the people." The people, I would submit, have no 
learning properly so called, nor do they learn, but imbibe their beliefs 
and traditions. And this distinction will be at once understood if 
one considers the different ways in which one of the commonalty, and 
a pupil of such a caste or order as that of the Brahmins, the Ascle- 
piads or the Druids, acquired unwritten knowledge. Folk-lore, 
according to my definition, is the lore of the Cultured Class about the 
Folk. If, therefore, the term " Folk-lore " is used as synonymous 
with " Folk-customs " or " Folk-tales," it is misused. And it is only 
from this misuse that arises the anbiguity of the term remarked on by 
Miss Burne (Journal, vol. iii. pp. 103 and 267). As to the profound 
importance, for the science of Man's History, of treating the Sciences 
of Folk-life and of Culture-life as complementary and mutually 
corrective, the limits, if not the scope, of this paper forbid me to do 
more than affirm my conviction that it will revolutionize both our 
conceptions of, and mode of writing, History.* 

II. The Natural Classification of the Subjects of Folk-lore defined 
as knowledge of Folk-life must be identical with the Psychological 
Elements of Folk-life; and these must correspond with the most general 
facts of Human Consciousness — (1) An External World, (2) Other 
Beings, and (3) an Ancestral World — and with the most general facts 

* Being here unable to enlarge on this point, I may, perhaps, be allowed to 
refer to the remarks in myJPreface and Introduction to Greek Folh-Songs 
(pp. xvii. and xviii. and 42 and 43), printed in 1884, and published in the 
beginning of 1885. 


of Human Faculty— (1) Imagination, (2) Afifection, and (3) Memory 
— the first more especially unifying and shaping the phenomena of 
the External World, the second more especially determining relations 
to other Beings, and the third more especially creating and environing 
with an Ancestral World. 

I have no space here to defend this analysis, nor to show its rela- 
tions to recent psychological researches. !N'or is this necessary. The 
most important point in the statement of this Principle is the affirma- 
tion that a natural Classification of Folk-lore must be founded on a 
psychological Analysis of Folk-life. This must, I think, be evident, if 
the definition of Folk-lore as knowledge of Folk-life is accepted. And 
if this essential point as to Classification is admitted, whether our 
Analysis is as well stated as it might be is a minor question. 

III. Corresponding with these most general facts of Consciousness 
and of Faculty, the three Psychological Elements of Folk-life are (1) 
Folk-beliefs, (2) Folk-passions, and (3) Folk-traditions; and as Folk- 
lore is knowledge of Folk-life, these, therefore, are the Natural 
Divisions also of the Subjects of Folk-lore. 

On this it may be noted that, if the distinction is kept clearly in 
view between Folk-life and Culture -life, no question can arise as to 
whether Mythology generally, or whether, more particularly Astro- 
logy, Magic, and Witchcraft, belong, or not, to Folk-lore. They 
belong to it just so far as, and no further than, our knowledge is 
drawn directly from the records of Folk-life. To Hesiod, for instance. 
Classical Greek Mythology was Folk-lore; to us who study it, as 
systematised in Hesiod, it is Culture-lore. So, the Astrology, Magic, 
and Witchcraft which we find in the records of Adepts, beginning 
with Accadian Cylinders and Egyptian Papyri, and ending with 
Medigeval Manuscripts, belong to the history of Culture, and are 
indeed the natural Sciences of the First Stages of Culture; while the 
Astrology, Magic, and Witchcraft, the facts of which we ourselves 
may ascertain from our experiences of Folk-life, belong to Folk-lore, 
and will be recorded under the General Headings for the registration 
of the Facts of Folk-life. 

IV. The expressions of each of the three Elements of Folk-life — 
Folk-beliefs, Folk-passions, and Folk -traditions— are to be found in 


(1) Customs, (2) Sayings, and (3) Poesy ; these are, therefore, the 
Natural Headings for the registration of the Facts of Folk-life ; and 
these Facts, when so registered, form the three Natural Classes of 
the Records of Folk-lore. 

I am thus unable to agree with Mr. Gomme {Journal, vol. iii. p. 5) 
in putting Superstitions and Beliefs in the same line with Traditional 
Narratives, Traditional CustomSy and Folk-speech. Beliefs and Customs 
appear to me to belong to two different logical categories. In the 
Classification of Folk-lore here proposed the distinction is capital 
between the Elements of Folk-life and the Records of Folk-life. How 
do we know anything about Folk-beliefs save from the records of them 
which we find in Customs, Sayings, and Poesy ? And are not Beliefs 
to be put in line with the other subjective elements of Folk-life, 
rather than in line with Customs and the other objective expressions 
of Folk-life ? 

V. Folk-customs, as expressions of Folk-life, may be more espe- 
cially expressive of Folk-beliefs, or of Folk-passions, or of Folk- 
traditions; and hence Folk-customs may be classified as — (1) Fes- 
tivals ; (2) Ceremonies ; and (3) Usages (Religious, Sexual, and 
Social). For the same reason Folk-sayings may be classified as — 
(1) Recipes (Magical, Medical, and Technical); (2) Saws (Proverbs, 
Jests, and Riddles); and (3) Forecasts (Omens, Weather signs, and 
Auguries, &c.) And similarly Folk- poesy may be classified as— 
(1) Stories; (2) Songs (Mythological, Affectional, and Historical); 
and (3) Sagas. 

By this I mean that, if the Genera and Species of Folk-customs, 
Folk-sayings, and Folk-poesy can be determined by any general 
principle — which may perhaps be questioned — the best principle may be 
that of reference to those psychological Elements of Folk-life by 
which our Classes are distinguished. Thus in Folk-poesy, for 
instance, more of Folk-beliefs are, perhaps, found in Folk-stories ; of 
Folk-passions, in Folk-songs ; and of Folk-traditions, in Folk-sagas. 
Carrying this principle of Classification still further, it suggested my 
division of Greek Folk-songs into Mythological, Affectional, and 
Historical— a division which may, perhaps, also aptly classify Folk- 
stories and Folk-sagas. And if the somewhat new-fangled term Affec- 



tional (Gemutvollef as a German critic translates it) is objected to, 
I should be glad to have a better one suggested, to include, as Affec- 
iional does, what certainly ought to be included under one generic 
name — Erotic, Domestic, and Humoristic Folk-songs. Folk-music, 
alluded to by Miss Burne in a note {Journal^ vol. iii. p. 103) would 
naturally, I think, in its three divisions — Metres, Melodies, and 
Instruments — come under the heading of, and be treated along with, 
Folk-songs. 1 shall only add that the place assigned to Sagas 
(Myths) implies that they are believed to be, for the most part, 
made up of, and from. Stories. 

For the sake of greater clearness I may summarise the above- 
stated principles in the following systematic form : — 

The Elements of Folk-life and Subjects of Folk-lore : 

I. Folk-beliefs. II. Folk-passions. III. Folk-traditions. 

The Expressions of Folk-life and Eecords of Folk-lore : 
I. Folk-customs. II. Folk-sayings. 

[(1) Keligious. 1. Recipes. 
Festivals. |(2) Sexual. (1) Magical. 

(2) Medical. 

(3) Technical. 

2. Saws. 

(1) Proverbs. 

(2) Jests. 

(3) Riddles. 

3. Forecasts. 

(1) Omens. 

(2) Auguries. 

(3) Weathersigns. 


1(3) Social. 

i(l) Keligious. 
(2) Sexual. 
(3) Social. 
|(1) Religious. 

(2) Sexual. 

(3) Social. 

3. Usages.* 

III. Folk-poesy. 

1. Stories. 

2. Songs. 

(1) Mythological. 

(2) Afifectional. 

(3) Historical. 

3. Sagas. 

1. Metres. 

2. Melodies. 

3. Instruments. 

J. S. Stuart Glennie. 

* Under the head of Social Usages would come Place-names, and generally 
Folk-nomenclature. In his Celtic Essays Mr. M. Arnold has shown how 
characteristically different are the place-names of Kelts and Saxons. 










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Italian Popular Tales. By Thomas Frederick Crane, A.M., Professor 
of the Romance Languages in Cornell University [Ithaca, 
U.S.A.] London: Macmillan & Co. 1885. Pp. xxxiv. and 389. 

Merely as a stcry-book, this work must take a high place among the 
best and most popular collections of its class which have been issued of 
late years, and they are tolerably numerous. But as a scholarly piece 
of work it would certainly be very difficult to overrate its value to 
English students of comparative folk-lore, a branch of study and 
research the importance of which we are gratified to see now being 
more recognised in this country. This is not a new selection from the 
early Italian novelists ; it does not reproduce the literary tales of 
Italy. " The stories," says Professor Crane, " which, with few excep- 
tions, are here presented for the first time in English, have been 
translated from recent Italian collections, and are given exactly as 
they were taken down from the mouths of the people; and it is in 
this sense— belonging to the people — that the word * popular ' is used 
in the title of this work." The value of the collection is thus very 
obvious, since we have herein the means of ascertaining the ideas, 
superstitions, manners and customs, and modes of thought of the 
common people of Italy of the present day, which stories in a literary 
form Could not possibly furnish. Miss Busk's specimens of the folk- 
lore of Rome, interesting and valuable as they are undoubtedly, yet 
left the rich folk-lore of the Italian provinces, and especially of Sicily, 
unknown to the merely English reader. Mr. Crane's object in this 
work, he tells us, has been " to present to the reader unacquainted 
with the dialects of Italy a tolerably complete collection of Italian 
popular tales."* With theories of the origin and diffusion of these 

* The tales comprised in the volume are from Venice, Bologna, Milan, Pied- 
mont, Tuscany, the Tyrol, Naples, and Sicily. 


tales, or of popular tales in general, he has nothing to do at present: 
others may draw their own inferences from this along with similar 
collections. We shall hope, however, that the learned Professor will 
ere long favour students of the genealogy of popular tales and fictions 
with his views on this still-vexed question, feeling assured that they 
could not fail to prove eminently instructive. 

In the Introduction an interesting account is given of the fairy tale 
in European literature — its first appearance being in the Piacevoli 
Notti (Pleasant Nights) of Straparola, published in 1550, and its 
next in the Pentamerone of Basile, from which Perrault drew the 
substance of some of his best French fairy tales ; and of the several 
collections of tales which have been preserved orally among the people 
of Italy. The two first chapters are devoted to fairy-tales, beginning 
with a series of stories similar to — but not necessarily, as we think, 
derived from — the beautiful episode of Cupid and Psyche in the 
Golden Ass of Apuleius. It seems to have been a branch of very 
ancient general belief that when a superior being condescended to 
mate with a mortal, some kind of condition was imposed on the latter, 
as a test of obedience, the breaking of which resulted in banishment, 
usually temporary, but sometimes perpetual. Innumerable instances 
of this occur in European romances ; as in Melusine^ where the banish- 
ment is perpetual ; in Partenopex de Blois, where it is only tem- 
porary ; in Huo7i of Bordeaux, and in the Lays of Sir GruSlan and of 
Sir Launval ; while in Asiatic fictions similar instances arc also 
found : the Arabian Nights (story of the Second Calender) ; the 
Persian Tales of the Dervish Mukhlis of Ispahan (story of the fairy 
Sheristani) ; the Seveii Vazirs (story of the youth who was taken to 
the Land of Women) ; the Hitopadesa (Queen of the Fairies) ; and 
the Kathd Sarit Sdgara (story of Saktideva). In northern folk-lore 
we find a parallel to the legend of Cupid and Psyche in Dasent's story 
of the White Bear. Our space, unfortunately, will not permit of a 
comparative analysis of the thirty-six specimens of fairy tales which 
Mr. Crane gives in the texts and the notes. Suffice it to say that 
they have been selected, out of several hundreds, with great judg- 
ment and excellent taste ; many of them have their counterparts in 
the folk-lore of Iceland, Norway, and Sweden, and these may rather 


have been carried to the south by the bold Norsemen than have 
travelled from the south to the north. As a matter of course, our 
familiar Norwegian friend, the Lad who went to the North Wind, 
reappears in Italy with his Ass, that lays money, his Table-cloth, that 
furnishes all kinds of dainties, and his Stick, that thrashed the 
rascally innkeeper who stole those precious treasures. 

The third chapter treats of Stories of Oriental Origin, which at 
once suggest the question of their transmission from their cradle- 
land. Venetian commerce with the Levant may account, in part at 
least, for the introduction of Asiatic fictions into Italy. But this is a 
subject too wide to be discussed in what must necessarily be a mere 
notice of a work which would require a whole number of the Folk- 
Lore Journal to do it justice. We can only glance at a few of the 
more notable stories. The fable of the ungrateful snake, that would 
have killed the man who saved its life (p. 150), which first appeared 
in Europe in the Disciplina Clericalis of Alfonsus, twelfth century, is 
also found, with little variation, in Steel and Temple's Wide-Awalce 
Stories, from the Panjab and Kashmir. Another story in Alfonsus, 
of the herdsman and his flock of sheep crossing the ferry, of which 
Mr. Crane gives several variants (pp. 155-6), has its analogue in the 
Canarese story-book entitled Kathd Manjari. The tale "Vineyard 
I was, Vineyard I am " (p. 159), known among story-comparers by 
the short title of " The Lion's Track," is not only found, as Mr. 
Crane remarks, in the Greek, Hebrew, and Arabic versions of the 
Seven Wise Masters (Book of Sindibad), but also occurs in the 
Syriac and old Castilian texts ; and the last half of it still remains 
in the beautifully illuminated but unfortunately imperfect MS. Persian 
poem, Sindibad Ndma^ preserved in the India Office Library. In the 
story of '' The Mason and his Son " (p. 163") we have a Sicilian variant 
of the Robbery of the King's Treasury, in the Seven Sages, the tra- 
dition of King Rhampsinitus in Herodotus, which does not appear 
to have been derived from Bandello's version, but presents some curious 
points of resemblance to the latter part of No. 24 of M. Legrand's 
Contes pojml aires Grecs (Paris, 1881). A Sinhalese version of this 
wide-spread story has been recently published in The Orientalist^ 
vol. i. pp. 59-61. In stating that the story, in the Seven Sages, of 


the Elopement is found only in Pitre's Sicilian collection (p. 167), 
Mr. Crane seems to have overlooked the version in Miss Busk's Folk- 
Lore of Home, p. 399, entitled '' The Grace of the Hunchback." 
The most interesting portion of this chapter is perhaps that which 
comprises Italian popular versions of the frame-story of the Persian 
Tuti Ndma, or Parrot-Book, which are both curious and significant. 
The idea of these different versions, from Pisa, Florence, Piedmont, 
and Sicily, may have been derived through the Turks, to whom that 
famous Persian story-book has long been familiar from a translation 
of it in their own language. In the Italian versions the parrot relates 
one or more tales to divert a lady during her husband's (or father's) 
absence, as in the Tuti Ndma and the Indian SuJca Saptatz (Seventy 
Tales of a Parrot) ; they could not have been imitated from the well- 
known story (in the Seven Sages) of the parrot, or magpie, left behind 
him by a merchant to note the conduct of his wife while he is abroad, 
for that bird does not relate any stories to the lady, who, indeed, has 
another kind of amusement. Possibly the incident of the parrot and 
the maina in one of the traditions of Raja Rasalu (see Temple's 
Legends of the Panjdb, vol. i.) may have suggested the frame-story of 
both the Indian and Persian Parrot-Books. The tales related by the 
parrots in the Italian versions do not seem, however, to be of Asiatic 
origin. The concluding tale in this chapter, " Truthful Joseph," 
furnishes another instance of the influence of the Turks in Southern 
Europe : it is told in the Qirq Vezir, Forty Yazirs, of the Sultan's 
Master of the Horse. 

The fourth chapter contains legends and ghost stories, which may 
be said to constitute Christian folk-lore, a striking characteristic of 
so many of the popular tales of Iceland and Norway. It is very 
remarkable that several of these legends, in which the Lord and 
St. Peter figure prominently, seem not to be, as one should naturally 
suppose, European in their conception, but of Muhammadan extrac- 
tion ; legends very similar being related of Jesus by Arabian writers. 
The story of *< The Lord, St. Peter, and the Blacksmith" (p. 188) 
has its parallels in Germany, Norway, and Russia — in the latter 
country the Devil is represented as the operator — and also in an old 
black-letter English metrical tale, entitled, ''Of the Smyth that 


burnt his Wyfe, and after forged her againe by the helpe of oure 
blessed Lord."* 

In the fifth chapter we have a most delightful selection of nurseiy 
tales, which comprise an astonishing number of different *' cumula- 
tive " stories, similar to our "Old Woman and the crooked Sixpence," 
and '' The House that Jack built," Norse, Gaelic, and other parallels 
to which are already well known to all story-comparers ; nor must we 
forget the curious Indian version, " The Death of poor Hen-Sparrow," 
in Wide-Awake Stories. 

The sixth, and last, chapter, Stories and Jests, leads off with a 
version of " King John and the Abbot," of which, by-the-by, there 
is a variant also in the Turkish jest-book, ascribed to the Khoja 
(teacher) Nasred-Din. Next we have a very amusing form of the 
wide-spread story of the quest of the Three Greatest Fools. Among 
other stories are "The Wager" (the Silent Couple) and "Scissors 
they are." The sayings and doings of Giufa, the typical booby of 
Sicily, are duly represented, though in those given in pp. 297-302 he 
is rather a knave than a fool, in fact, a Sicilian Scogan or Tyl 
Eulenspiegel. In " Uncle Capriano " (p. 303) we meet with an old 
and far-travelled acquaintance : the story, it is not generally known, 
exists in a Latin poem of the eleventh century, where the hero is 
called Unibos, because he had lost all his cattle but one, and cleverly 
tricks his enemies, the provost, the mayoi*, and the priest of the 
town. The story is known in Iceland, Norway, Denmark, Germany, 
Ireland, the West Highlands of Scotland, France, Algeria (among 
the Kabail, or wandering tribes), and throughout India. This ver- 
sion resembles the Icelandic legend of " Sigurdr the Sack-knocker " 
in several of the details. The incidents of the capon and of the hus- 
band carried off by his wife, in the story of " The Clever Girl " 
(p. 311), are both found in the Talmud, and the latter is the subject 
of a Russian folk-tale. In the concluding story, " Crab " (p. 314), 
we have a variant of "Dr. Know-all" in Grimm's collection, the 
original of which occurs in the great Sanskrit story-book, Kathd 
Sarit Sdgara, in the tale of Harisarman. 

* Contrlhut'wRS to Early Eiiglish Literature. From rare books and ancient 
MSS. loth to 17th centuries. Edited by J. O. Halliwell (now Halliwell-Phillips). 
Privately printed, 1849. 


Tlie notes (pp. 319-383) furnish, besides occasional variants of 
stories given in tlie text, references to others in the works of the 
most distinguished scholars who have made a special study of the 
migrations and transformations of popular tales and fictions ; and 
their compilation must have cost Professor Crane a vast amount of 
labour, which, however, will be duly appreciated by all who are 
interested in comparative folk-lore. The usefulness of the book is 
farther increased by an elaborate Bibliography of Works on Italian 
Tales (pp. xix. — xxviii.) ; a list of the works most frequently referred 
to in the notes ; and an excellent general index. Mr. Crane has 
good cause to be gratified with the handsome manner in which his 
work is presented to the public : it is beautifully printed, and in 
every way well got up. 

The Legends of the Panjdh ; vol. ii. By Captain R. C. Temple. 
Bombay and London (Triibner). 8vo. pp. xxii. 580. 

There is scarcely any necessity to do more than announce to our 
members the publication of the second volume of Captain Temple's 
valuable collection of legends from the Panjab, as the first volume is 
so well known, beside the other work which Captain Temple is always 
so busily engaged upon. This volume contains the legends of Raja 
Gopi Chand, Raja Chandarbhan and Rani Chand Karan, two songs 
about Namdev, Sakhi Sarwar and Jati, marriage of Sakhi Sarwar, the 
ballad of Chuhar Singh, Sansar Chand of Kangra and Fatteh Parkash 
of Sarmor, Raja Jagat Singh of Nurpur, a hymn to 'Abdu'l-Qadir 
Jilani, Jalali, the Blacksmith's daughter, the legend of 'Abdu'llah Shah 
of Samin, the story of Raja Jagdeo, Raja Nal, the legend of Raja Dhol, 
Raja Rattan Sain of Chittaur, three versions of Sarwan and Farijan, 
Puran Bhagat, the legend of Mir Chakur, Isma'il Khan's grand- 
mother, the bracelet-maker of Jhang, the marriage of Hir and Ranjha. 

Captain Temple prefaces his collection of stories by emphasizing the 
views he brought forward in the preface to his Wide-Awalce Stories, 
that folk-tales consisted of two distinctive elements — the incidents 
being the most important, the most vital and the most archaic, the 
setting of the story being accidental, dependant upon the narrator. 
To this view we would wish especially to again draw attention, because 
it strikes the key-note of" the future methods of study of folk-tales. 


Captain Temple says a timely and forcible word on the importance of 
studying folk-lore as a science, and the endeavour of the writers in the 
Folk-Lore Journal to urge and advance this view. The collection of 
legends which follow this admirable preface illustrates the views 
therein put forward. Hero legends arising in historical times are 
boldly tacked on to hero legends of mythical times, and thus the con- 
struction of a cycle of legends or folk-tales, so well known to students 
of European storyology, is seen as it is going on. Such a fact as this 
ought to lead to some re-examination of western cycles of folk-tales, 
especially one most interesting of all to English students — the 
Arthurian cycle. India, in folk-lore, as in other sciences, certainly 
gives such important help towards the elucidation of western history, 
mental and social, that these volumes of Captain Temple's appear 
to us to be of an importance and value which have not jet been 
fully recognized by English folk-lorists. Captain Temple collects 
himself, hears the stories told, knows their living form, and has know- 
ledge sufficient to grasp the most salient and important features which 
such facts give him, and therefore, more than any one else, he, it 
appears to us, is capable of pointing out the direction to which future 
study should tend. The stories in the volume before us, and in the 
first of the series, speak for themselves. They are in some features 
familiar to all folk-lorists. But Captain Temple can and does point 
out the manner of their construction in their present form, and it is 
this part of his labours which ought to be transferred to the long 
crystallized stories of Western Europe to see if it does not unlock 
some of the mysteries they contain. 

Altogether, we do not know any other folk-lorist, besides Mr. Ralston 
and Mr. Lang, who has done more for the science than Captain 
Temple. Both as collector and as investigator he has given us work 
of the highest order, and if we mistake not it will be to his labours 
that future progress in the science of folk-lore will be most indebted. 

Moon-Lore. By the Rev. Timothy Harley. London, 1885 (Swan 

Sonnenschein). 8vo. pp. xvi. 296. 

It is certainly useful to have collected into one volume the folk-lore 

of any definite subject, and in this sense we welcome the volume now 

before us. It is divided into convenient sections, dealing with moon 


spots, moon worship, moon superstitions, moon inhabitation. Mr. 
Harley has read widely and noted carefully ; but it is not necessary to 
crowd in all and every quotation bearing however remotely upon the 
subject. But Mr. Harley does not profess to write scientifically : he 
says his '' work is a contribution to light literature, and to the 
literature of light," a mode of expression which conveys a very good 
idea of the character of the book. We are far from desiring to 
suggest that there is nothing of value in this collection of moon- 
lore, because as the author is always careful to give chapter and 
verse for his quotation there is certainly a very interesting accumula- 
tion of material for subsequent scientific use, and in the meantime 
we have a readable and useful book. Some anecdotes, such, for 
instance, as that of the little girl at Dr. Bernardo's Home, who was 
a veritable modern moon worshipper in civilized England, are of some 
considerable value to folk-lorists, because they are obtained from 
sources not usually consulted. 

A Dictionary of Kashmiri Proverbs and Sayings, Eaylained and 
Illustrated from the rich and interesting Folk-lore of the Valley. 
By the Rev. J. Hinton Knowles. Bombay, Calcutta, and 
London, 1885 (Triibner). 12mo. pp. viii. 263. 

This is a genuine contribution to those folk-lore collections from 
India which are always so welcome to students of nearly all sections 
of history; and Mr. Knowles has aided the student very learnedly 
and ably by his accumulation of folk-lore in illustration of the pro- 
verbial sayings. One cannot read these proverbs without at once 
detecting their primitive characteristics and extracting from them 
some notion of the Hfe of the people who use them — a fact which 
shows how faithful has been Mr. Knowles's method of work. He 
tells us that he believes nearly all the proverbs are contained in this 
little book, and he has been at great pains to consult Hindu and 
Muhammadan friends as to the correct reading and explanations of 
each proverb. Mr. Knowles has spent two winters in the most 
invigorating air and sublime quiet of Kashmir, as a missionary, and 
amidst the happiness of his other labours he has turned to the 
people to teach him their lore. We congratulate him upon the 
result, and gladly give a welcome to his valuable book. 



HE description of mummers in Strutt's Sports and Pastimes, 
and in Brand's Pojmlar Antiquities, is inapplicable to the 
amusement generally known as " the Mummers " in 
England, both now and in past times, although fast 
dying out ; and as there does not appear to be any published account 
of the latter, perhaps the following may be worthy of publication as a 
record of this old pastime. 

The mummers, as described by Strutt, were men and sometimes 
women, disguised in any uncouth manner, at times with the skins and 
horns of various animals, to startle or amuse an audience by their 
strange appearances, but with no form of speech or action. The 
mummers I allude to were more like players, having certain characters 
and parts to perform, and probably connected with customs handed 
down to us from very early times and stage performances. 

I do not remember seeing the mummers perform more than two or 
three times, and that must have been in 1815 and 1816 ; but in those 
days the speeches of the mummers were as well known to boys as • 
" Hey diddle diddle ! the cat and the fiddle," or " Little Jack Horner 
sat in a comer," are now known to children as nursery rhymes, and I 
have no doubt that at this time these mummers' speeches are still 
known in many parts of the country, although, as in the inclosed MS., 
much muddled up. 

Vol. 4.— Part 2. h 


It was then a custom for parties of men or boys, for a month or so 
before and after Christmas, to go about as mummers. The first set I 
saw perform were from a neighbouring town, and were well got up, 
being fairly dressed in character; the speeches were given in rich, 
bombastic style, and they had been well practised in fencing, dancing, 
and singing. Such however was an exception to the rule, as generally 
the men were merely disguised with but little or no regard to the 
characters, and the words spoken with very little knowledge of their 

The following is from an old written paper from which the per- 
formers evidently had to learn their parts, and this is probably from 
an older and more perfect paper, as the errors of the copyist are 


Act I. — Father Christmas. 

In comes I, old Father Christmas, 

Welcome or welcome not. 

I hope old father Christmas 

Will never be forgot. 

A room a room, I do presume, 

For me and my brave gallant boys all. 

Pray give me leave to act and rhyme, 

Now this merry Christmas time. 

I'll show you some of the finest plays 

That ever were acted on Saint Mary Andrews stage. 

Step in, King George. 

Act II. — King George. 

In comes I, King George, a man of courage bold, 
With my broad s'word and shield I won ten thousand crowns 
in gold. 


Aye, I fought the fiery dragon 

And brought him to the slaughter, 

And for this great victoiy I won 

The Queen of England's daughter. 

Bring any man to me, I'll cut him and hue him as small as 

And send him to the cook's shop to make mince pies. 
Mince pies hot, mince pies cold, 
Mince pies in the pot nine days old. 

Act III. — Turkish Knight. 

In comes I, a Turkish knight. 

From Turkey land I came to fight. 

I'll fight thee, King George, the man of courage bold. 

If thy blood be hot, I'll quickly draw it cold. 

Thou saidst thou cut me and hue me as small as flies. 

And send me to the cookshop to make mince pies. 

Over many fields as thou made me fly, 

But now I am come with a mind to try 

To see which on the ground shall lie. 

Enters a fight. Turkish Knight kills King George. Kmg George 
falls to the ground. 

Father Christmas cries out — 

Doctor, doctor, play thy part. 

King George is wounded to the heart. 

Doctor, doctor, haste away. 

See thou make no longer stay. 

Five pounds I'd freely give if that noble doctor were but here. 

Act nil. — Doctor Brown. 

In comes I, little Doctor Brown, 
The best little doctor in the town. 
H 2 


A doctor and a doctor good, 

And with my hand I'll swage his blood. 

My pills shall work him through and through, 

To cure his body and stomach too. 
F, C. Where com'st thou from ? 
Dr. B. From France, from Spain, 

And from the greatest parts of Christendom I came. 
F. G. And what can'st thou cure ? 
Dr. B. The hitch, the stitch, the ston, the palsy, and the gout. 

The pains within and the pains without, 

The molygrubs, the polygrubs, and those little rantantorius 

Let the wrinkles break 

Or the palsy quacke. 
Take one of my pills and try them. Bring any old woman unto 
me that has been dead seven years, in her coffin eight, and buried 
nine. If she's only got one hollow rum tum serum tum old jack 
tooth in the back of her head. If she can only manage to crack one 
of my little pills I'll be bound in the bond of a thousand pounds to 
maintain her back to life again. 

This is the case that was never before, 

But now, King George, rise up and fight once more. 
Dr. Brown stooping and giving him a pea from a box, then riseing 
him up, then another fight, Turkish Knight falls to the ground. 
Doctor Brown, If there (is) any man can do more than me 

Let him step in if his name is Jack Finny. 

Act five. — Jack Finny. 

My name is not Jack Finny, my name is Mr. Finny, I am a man 
of great fame. 

Dr. B. And what canst thou do ? 
J. F. Cure a magpie with the toothache. 
Dr. B. And how canst do that ? 
/. F, By cutting off his head and throwing his body in a ditch. 


Dr. B. Barberous rascal ! 

J. F. No barbary at all, but certain cure. 

I can cure this man if he (be) not dead, 
So pray me honest friend rise up thine head. 
And as he gets up you all march in a ring and say altogether— 
In comes Tom the Tinker, 
Sold him for a winker. 
The chimney corner was his place, 
Where he sat and dried his face. 
Till Tom's hair (was) brown. 
Then march in a straight line and sing songs. 

There are two mummer characters omitted in the paper. One 
enters with — 

Here comes I, who hant-bin-it (have not been yet) 

With my great head and little wit. 

My head so great, my wit so small, 

I'll do my best to please you all. 
Gives the double shuffle or some other dance. 
Then enters the Devil with — 

Here comes I, old Beelzebub, 

On my shoulder I carries my club. 

In my hand a drinking can. 

Don't you think me a jolly old man. 
Then all dance in a ring with the Devil in the middle, who then 
drives them all out. 


In 1876 a book, Letters from Lusitama, was published in Windsor, 
in which the anonymous author, having been in official residence 
amongst the copper-mines in Portugal, gives an account of various 
doings which came under his notice amongst the Portuguese and 


Spaniards around him, and, with these, an account of his visit to a 
small Spanish town on the feast-day of the patron saint. After 
alluding to a procession of priests, with relics, &c., he says: ''We 
entered upon a tour of observation, and it was not long before our 
trouble was rewarded, and our curiosity gratified, with the sight of a 
dance, performed by six men, each of whom held one of the knotted 
ends of a coloured handkerchief, the other knot being held by another 
dancer. To the horridly monotonous whifflings of two reed-pipes, 
and the sound of a species of tom-tom, they curveted round and 
round, or changed places, and, in doing so, altered the variegated 
pattern formed by the handkerchiefs — six in all — ever held head-high , 
and kept twining and intertwining in multiform ways. The tom-tom 
consisted of an earthen bowl, over the mouth of which a bladder was 
tightly strained. Through the centre of the skin a stout quill, plucked 
from a turkey, was thrust, and this being drawn out and pushed in 
again produced a horrid monotone, not unlike the booming of a bull 
frog. It was a strangely unique performance." 

There can be no doubt that the dance thus described is identical in 
its main points with the English Morris, or Morisco, dancing ; and 
interesting in support of the assertion that this dance was first intro- 
duced into Spain by the Moors, and thence into England. It is also 
interesting in showing not only the rapid decline of the Morris dance 
in England, but also the knowledge of it ; as this author, evidently 
an observer, does not appear to have any, although within the last 
three hundred years this was a chief amusement of the higher classes 
(even royalty itself), and, up to a very recent period, the national 
dance of the rural districts. 

Many particulars are given in Strutt's Sports and Pastimes, and in 
Brand's Popular Antiquities^ from churchwardens' accounts, and other 
sources, showing the popularity of this amusement in the public 
payments in support of it, but I have no knowledge of any printed 
description of the dance by which it might be recognised. Under 
these circumstances, perhaps the following may be worthy of publica- 

So long as Morris dancing was kept up with spirit, i. e., to about 
J 830 or X840, there was a sort of rivalry in parishes as to which 


should ha^e the best turn-out, so that the six selected were generally 
the pick of the parish for activity and appearance. Their dress, if 
well got up, was uniform, i. e., no waistcoat, white linen shirt of good 
quality, pleated, and got up in the best style. A broad ribbon from 
each shoulder was crossed on the breast and back, and, terminating 
at the waist, the ends formed a sort of sash. Small bows of narrow 
ribbon were fixed on the crossings of the wider ribbon, the shoulders, 
the wrists, and the upper arms ; the colours were sometimes various, 
but generally those of the nobleman or leading family of the parish. 
Small bells, producing a sort of jingling sound, attached to coloured 
bindings, were fastened around the legs below the knees and above 
the ankles. Black beaver hat of good quality. 

From the above, considering the times to which I refer, it may be 
seen that starting a Morris, complete on all points, was rather costly. 

The dances were in various forms, but in all the six had to move 
in unison ; sometimes with a white handkerchief in one or both 
hands, waved about in various manners ; in other dances there was 
a clapping of hands, either by each bringing the palms together or 
by each meeting those of his partner; and, in others, each had a staff, 
of about two feet in length, and these were flourished and clashed 
together in various ways. There was no display of '^ footing" in the 
dancing, but the great aim seemed to be to keep the time and figure, 
so that every sound and every movement should be strictly in unison. 

The music was the simple tabor and pipe, and these, probably, 
merely to mark the time: the use of the fiddle in late years seemed 
quite an inappropriate innovation. 

My memory will go fairly back to the first decade of the century, 
but I have no remembrance of seeing any representation of Maid 
Marian in connection with the Morris dance ; and I see no grounds 
for mixing up this dance with the Robin Hood characters otherwise 
than from their being popular amusements of the same times. 

The clown I have always known in connection with the Morris 
dance, but it is probable that this was merely an adoption of the 
domestic fool from necessity. There was nothing in his get-up to 
connect him with the dance — he was merely grotesque. He had a 
stick of about three feet in length, with a calf's tail fastened on one 


end, and an inflated bladder suspended at the other, and in the use 
of it he was privileged. He made very free use of this in clearing 
and keeping a space for the dancers and in his endeavours to raise a 
laugh, one of the most successful being in the dexterous manner in 
which he would take a man's hat off by a mere whisk of the calf's 
tail, or bonnet him by bringing his hat down over his eyes by a blow 
from the bladder. For such tricks as these, as with the domestic fool, 
rough as they were, he had full immunity in the general privilege of 
the clown. 


The evidence from churchwardens' accounts and other statements, 
given in Brand's Popular Antiquities (1873), shows that these and 
similar pastimes originated or were adopted — at least, in some cases 
— as means for raising money for parochial and charitable purposes. 
" In the Introduction to The Survey and Natural History of the North 
Division of the County of Wiltshire^ by Aubrey, at p. 32, is the following 
curious account of Whitsun-ales: — ' There were no rates for the poor in 
my grandfather's days ; but for Kingston St. Michael (no small parish) 
the Church-ale of Whitsuntide did the business. In every parish is, 
or was, a church-house, to which belonged spits, crocks, &c., utensils 
for dressing provisions. Here the housekeepers met and were merry, 
and gave their charity. The young people were there, too, and had 
dancing, bowling, shooting at butts, &c., the ancients sitting gravely 
by and looking on. All things were civil and without scandal.' " — 
(Brand's Pop, Ant. vol. i. p. 282.) 

"At a vestry held at Brentford, in 1621, several articles were 
agreed upon with regard to the management of the parish stock by 
the chapel-wardens. The preamble stated, that the inhabitants had 
for many years been accustomed to have meetings at Whitsuntide, in 
the church-house and other places there, in friendly manner, to eat 
and drink together, and liberally to spend their monies, to the end 
neighbourly society might be maintained ; and also a common stock 


raised for the repairs of the church, maintaining of orphans, placing 
poor children in service, and defraying other charges. In the 
accompts for the Whitsontide-ale, 1624, the gains are stated as 
221. 2s. 9d. a considerable sum in those days." — (Brand, pp. 280-1.) 

At meetings called for such purposes, even the highest in a 
parish might attend with propriety, and could hardly avoid doing 
so, and, doubtless, under such circumstances, the choice of lord and 
lady (or May Queen) would fall on the apparently most deserving, 
thus becoming an honour to be wished for. " At present," says 
Douce, quoting from Rudder, " the Whitsun-ales are conducted in 
the following manner: — Two persons are chosen, previous to the 
meeting, to be lord and lady of the ale, who dress as suitably as they 
can to the character they assume. A large empty barn, or some 
such building, is provided for the lord's hall, and fitted up with seats 
to accommodate the company. Here they assemble to dance and 
regale in the best manner their circumstances and place will afford ; 
and each young fellow treats his girl with a riband or favour. The 
lord and lady honour the hall with their presence, attended by the 
steward, sword-bearer, purse-bearer, and mace-bearer,* with their 
several badges or ensigns of office. They have likewise a train- 
bearer or page, and a fool or jester, drest in a party-coloured jacket, 
whose ribaldry and gesticulations contribute not a little to the 
entertainment of some of the company. The lord's music, consisting 
of a pipe and tabor, is employed to conduct the dance." — (Brand, 
vol. i. p. 279.) 

Bearing in mind that in those times bear-baiting, morris-dancing, 
and the like were royal amusements, it may well be imagined that 
such meetings as those above described were pleasurable in a high 
degree, and thus Whitsun-ales were continued long after the causes 
which had given rise to them had ceased ; but, being carried on 
merely for profit or sport, degenerating into amusements of a more 
rollicking and boisterous character than those of the earlier times. 
However, since the earlier part of the present century, when they 

* The mace is made of silk, finely plaited, with ribands on the top, and filled 
with spices and perfumes for such of the company to smell as desire it. 


were not infrequent, they have altogether ceased, so that there are not 
many who now know the meaning of the name, which must soon 
pass altogether out of remembrance. Under these circumstances, the 
following description of a Whitsun-ale of the most recent period may 
be interesting : — 

A large barn was fitted up with seats for the company, and called 
my lord's hall ; a portion for the sale of beer, &c., was called my lord's 
buttery ; and another portion, fitted up with branches and flowers, for 
the sale of cakes and confectionery, was called my lady's bower. 
Owls were hung about in cages and called my lord's parrots ; other 
songless birds, as the rook, jackdaw, raven, or the like, were called my 
lady's nightingales ; and any one using a name for these and other 
objects otherwise than that thus given them became liable to a fine, 
with a ride on the wooden-horse or my lord's charger. 

The lord and lady, with their male and female attendants, all gaily 
dressed and bedecked with ribbons, were free in their offers of flowers 
or cake, for the acceptance of which the fee was expected. 

The wooden-horse, the principal source for amusement, was a stout 
pole, elevated on four legs to a convenient height, with a small plat- 
form on which the lady's chair was fixed, and the man could set his 
feet as he sat astride the pole. Every man who paid the fine was 
privileged to mount the horse and be carried round the boundaries, 
with the lady seated before him, with kisses unlimited. If a female 
paid forfeit she took the lady's place, and the lord had to mount and 
do the kissing part. But if a man would not pay in money he had to 
mount the horse per force and alone, with a practical lesson in rough- 
riding which he would not readily forget. It was not, however, 
altogether as a fine that the money was paid, as men and mere boys 
would intentionally incur the penalty to boast of their ride on the 
charger and kissing the lady, and many females for mere frolic would 
follow suit. 

There were morris-dancings and other amusements ; but enough has 
been stated to show that, whatever we may think of the Whitsun-ales 
of olden times, there is not much to regret in their suppression in the 
later period. 



In the early part of the present century Whitsun-ales were some- 
what common in the neighbourhood of Oxford, but I have no remem- 
brance of any but one Lamb-ale, which was held annually, at Kirt- 
lington, a village about nine miles north of Oxford. 

In Strutt's Sports and Pastimes, 1867, p. 358, it is stated that ''on 
the Monday after the Whitsun-week, at Kidlington in Oxfordshire, a 
fat lamb was provided, and the maidens of the town, having their 
thumbs tied behind them, were permitted to run after it, and she who 
with her mouth took hold of the lamb was declared the ' lady of the 
lamb ' ; which being killed and cleaned, but with the skin hanging 
upon it, was carried on a long pole before the lady and her companions 
to the green, attended with music, a morisco dance of men and 
another of women. The rest of the day was spent in mirth and 
merry glee. Next day the lamb, partly baked, partly boiled, and 
partly roasted, was served up for the lady's feast, where she sat 
' majestically at the upper end of the table, and her companions with 
her,' the music playing during the repast, which being finished the 
solemnity ended." 

This statement, with very trifling variations, is also given in Brand's 
Popular Antiquities and several other works on such subjects, but is 
altogether a mis-statement. The name of Kidlington is given for 
Kirtlington, the two villages being about four miles apart : the story 
of the maidens catching the lamb with their teeth is doubtless a mere 
made-up tale, and I can only account for its having passed so long 
without contradiction from its apparent absurdity rendering it un- 
necessary for those of the neighbourhood. However, a description of 
the Kirtlington lamb-ale, and how it was conducted, may be interesting 
and set this question in a proper light. This I hope to do fairly, as 
my remembrance will go back over seventy years ; and I am kindly 
assisted by a native, and long-resident of the village, an observer, and 
well qualified to aid in the task. 

The "lamb-ale" was held in a large barn, with a grass field con- 
tiguous for public dancing, &c. ; this was fitted up with great pains as 


a refreshment-room for company (generally numerous), and was called 
" My Lord's Hall." The lord and lady, being the ruling powers, 
attending with their mace-bearers, or pages, and other officers ; the 
lord, acting as master of the ceremonies, strictly keeping order. All 
were gaily and suitably dressed, with a preponderance of light-blue 
and pink, the colours of the Dashwood family, the lady appearing in 
white only, with light-blue or pink ribands on alternate days. 

The lamb-ale began on Trinity Monday, when — and on each day 
at 11 a.m. — the lady was^brought in state from her home, and at 
9 p.m. was in like manner conducted home again ; the sports were 
continued during the week, but Monday, Tuesday, and Saturday were 
the especial days. 

The refreshments, as served, were not charged for ; but a plate was 
afterwards handed round for each to give his donation. This seems 
strikingly to accord with Aubrey's account of the Whitsun-ales of his 
grandfather's time. 

The Morisco dance was not only a principal feature in the lamb-ale, 
but one for which Kirtlington was noted. No expense was spared in 
the getting up, as described in the paper on that subject ; and, with 
the linen of the whitest and ribands of the best, the display of the 
Dashwoods' colours was the pride of the parish, and in my early time 
it was generally understood that the farmers' sons did not decline 
joining the dancers, but rather prided themselves on being selected as 
one of them. The simple tabor and pipe was their only music ; but 
by degrees other instruments came into use in the private balls and 
dancing on the green, and besides these the surroundings of stalls 
made up a sort of fair. 

On opening the lamb-ale a procession was formed to take the 
lamb around the town and to the principal houses. It was carried 
on a man's shoulders or rather on the back of his neck with two legs 
on each side of it : the lamb being decorated with blue or pink 
ribands in accordance with the lady's colour for the day. The great 
house was the first visited, where, after a few Morisco dances (as 
generally supposed), two guineas were given, and thus within the 
week every farm or other liouse of importance within the parish was 


visited. During the week there were various amusements ; many 
hundreds visited the place from all sides, with a very general display 
of generosity and goodwill amongst all. 

From about sixty or seventy years ago, the lamb used in the lamb- 
ale has been borrowed and returned ; but previous to that time — for 
how long I cannot say — the lamb was slaughtered within the week, 
made into pies and distributed, but in what way is uncertain. It 
would be interesting if some light could be thrown on the origin of 
the lamb-ale. There is much which seems to connect it with the 
Whitsun-ale of early times ; but, from the difference in the days and 
the procession with the lamb, there seems to be a wide distinction 
between the festivals. 

As the lamb-ale appears to be unique, at least in this part of the 
country, an examination of the parish-registers might be interesting 
and throw some light on the subject. 



By Miss M. A. Courtney. 

ORNWALL has always been a county largely given to 
hospitality, and, as " all Cornish gentlemen are cousins," 
they have from time immemorial made it a practice to 
meet at each other's houses to celebrate their feasts and 
saints' days. 

Since "there are more saints is Cornwall than there are in heaven,*' 
these friendly gatherings must necessarily be very numerous. Each 
parish has its own particular saint to which its church is dedicated. 
The feasts held in their honour, probably dating from the foundation 
of the churches, are kept on the nearest Sunday and Monday to dedi- 
cation day, called by the people " feasten " Sunday and Monday. 


On the Saturdays preceding these feasts large quantities of " plum 
cake" are baked; light currant cakes raised with barm (yeast), and 
coloured bright yellow with saffron (as dear as " saffern " is a very 
common simile in Cornwall). Every family, however poor, tries to 
have a better dinner than usual on feasten Sunday, generally a joint 
of meat with a " figgy pudden " (a baked or boiled suet-pudding with 
raisins in it). The " saffern cake" at tea is often supplemented with 
" heavy cake," a delicacy peculiar to Cornwall ; it is a rich currant 
paste, about an inch thick, made with clotted cream, and is eaten hot. 

The "Western hounds meet in all the villages situated at a con- 
venient distance from their kennel, at ten o'clock on feasten Mondays, 
after a breakfast given by the squire of the parish to the huntsmen. 
They start for their run from somewhere near the parish church (the 
*' church town "). Three or four houses clustered together, and even 
sometimes a single house, is called in Cornwall a town, a farmyard is 
a town place, and London is often spoken of as " Lunnon church 

The first of the West Penwith feasts is that of Paul, a parish close 
to Penzance, which has not the Apostle Paul but St. Pol-de-Leon 
for its patron saint. It falls on the nearest Sunday to 10th October. 
An old proverb says, " Rain for Paul, rain for all," therefore, should 
the day be wet, it is of course looked upon by the young people as a 
bad sign for their future merry-makings. Some families fix on this 
day as the one for beginning their winter fires. An annual bowling- 
match was formerly held here on feasten Monday, between Paul and 
Mousehole men (Mousehole is a fishing village in the same parish); 
the last of them took place sixty years ago. Up to that time the 
bowling-green, an artificially raised piece of ground, was kept in order 
by the parishioners. No one in the neighbourhood now knows the 
game, the church schools are built on a part of the site, the remainder 
is the village playground. If there were ever any other peculiar 
customs celebrated at Paul feast they are quite forgotten, and the 
Monday night's carousal at the public-houses has here, as elsewhere, 
given place to church and chapel teas, followed by concerts, in the 
school-rooms, although tliere are still a few " standings " (stalls) 
in the streets, for the sale of gingerbread nuts and sweetmeats, and 


one or two swings and merry-go-rounds, largely patronised by 

October 12tb. A fair, called Roast Goose Fair, is held at Redruth. 

On the nearest Saturday to Hallowe'en, October 31st, the fruiterers 
of Penzance display in their windows very large apples, known locally 
as ** Allan" apples. These were formerly bought by the inhabitants and 
all the country people from the neighbourhood (for whom Penzance 
is the market-town), and one was given to each member of the 
family to be eaten for luck. The elder girls put theirs, before they 
ate them, under their pillows, to dream of their sweethearts. A few 
of the apples are still sold ; but the custom, which, I have lately been 
told, was also observed at St. Ives, is practically dying out. On 
AUantide, at Newlyn West, two strips of wood are joined crosswise 
by a nail in the centre, at each of the four ends a lighted candle is 
stuck, with apples hung between. This is fastened to a beam, or the 
ceiling of the kitchen, and made to revolve rapidly. The players, who 
try to catch the apples in their mouths, often get instead a taste of 
the candle. 

In Cornwall, as in other parts of England, many charms were tried 
on Hallowe'en to discover with whom you were to spend your future 
life, or if you were to remain unmarried, such as pouring melted lead 
through the handle of the front door key. The fantastic shapes it 
assumed foretold your husband's profession or trade. 

Rolling three names, each written on a separate piece of paper, 
tightly in the centre of three balls of earth. These were afterwards 
put into a deep basin of water, and anxiously watched until one of 
them opened, as the name on the first slip which came to the surface 
would be that of the person you were to marry. 

Tying the front door key tightly with your left leg garter between 
the leaves of a Bible at one particular chapter in the Song of Solomon. 
It was then held on the forefinger, and when the sweetheart's name 
was mentioned it turned round. 

Slipping a wedding-ring on to a piece of cotton, held between the 

forefinger and thumb, saying, "If my husband's name is to be 

let tliis ring swing ! " Of course, when the name of the person pre- 
ferred was spoken, the holder unconsciously made the ring oscillate. 


I have assisted at these rites about twenty-five years ago, and I 
expect the young people still practise them. 

In St. Cubert's parish, East Cornwall, is a celebrated holy well, so 
named, the inhabitants say, from its virtues having been discovered 
on All Hallows-day. It is covered at high spring tides. 

St. Just feast (which, when the mines in that district were pros- 
perous, was kept up with more revelry than almost any other) is 
always held on the nearest Sunday to All Saints-day. Formerly, 
on the Monday, many games were played, viz. *' Kook, a trial of 
casting quoits farthest and nearest to the goal, now all but forgotten" 
(Bottrell), wrestling, and kailles, or keels (ninepins), &c. Much 
beer and " moonshine " (spirit that had not paid the duty) were 
drunk, and, as the St. Just men are proverbially pugnacious, the 
sports often ended with a free fight. A paragraph in a local paper 
for November 1882 described St. Just feast in those days as " A 
hobble, a squabble, and a * hubbadullion ' altogether." Rich and 
poor still at this season keep open house, and all the young people 
from St. Just who are in service for many miles around, if they can 
possibly be spared, go home on the Saturday and stay until the 
Tuesday morning. A small fair is held in the streets on Monday 
evening, when the young men are expected to treat their sweethearts 
liberally, and a great deal of " foolish money " that can be ill afforded 
is often spent. 

In many Cornish parishes the bells are rung on November 4th, 
" Ringing night.'' 

The celebration of Gunpowder Plot has quite died out in West 
Cornwall, but in Launceston, and in other towns in the eastern part 
of the county, it is still observed. As regularly as the 5th of November 
comes around, fireworks are let off, and bonfires lit, to lively music 
played by the local bands. 

" This year, 1884, * Young Stratton' celebrated the Fifth with much 
more than his customary enthusiasm. A good sum was raised by 
public subscription by the energy of Mr. C. A. Saunders. The Bude 
fife and drum band headed a grotesque procession, formed at Howl's 
Bridge, and second in order came a number of equestrian torch- 
bearers in all kinds of costumes, furnished by wardrobes of her 


Majesty's navy, the Royal Marines, the Yeomanry, and numerous 
other sources. * Guido Faux ' followed in his car, honoured hy a 
postilion and a band of Christy Minstrels; then came foot torch- 
bearers, and a crowd of enthusiastic citizens, who ' hurraed ' to their 
hearts' content. Noticeable were the banners, * Success to Young 
Stratton,' the Cornish arms, and ' God save the Queen.' The 
display of fireworks took place from a field overlooking the town, and 
the inhabitants grouped together at points of vantage to witness the 
display. The bonfire was lit on Stamford Hill, where the carnival 
ended. Good order and good humour prevailed." — ( Western Morning 

When I was a girl, I was taught the following doggerel rhymes, 
which were then commonly chanted on this day : — 

" Please to remember the fifth of November ! 
A stick or a stake, for King George's sake. 
A faggot or rope, to hang the Pope. 
For Gunpowder Plot, shall never be forgot 
Whilst Castle Ryan stands upon a rock." 

This was in Victoria's reign; where Castle Ryan stands I have 
never been able to learn. 

The old custom formerly practised in Camborne, of taking a marrow- 
bone from the butchers on the Saturday before the feast which is held 
on the nearest Sunday to Martinmas, was, in 1884, revived in its 
original form. "A number of gentlemen, known as the 'Homage 
Committee,' went round the market with hampers, which were soon 
filled with marrow-bones, and they afterwards visited the public-houses 
as * tasters.' " — ( Cormshman.) 

One night in November is known in Padstow as " Skip-skop night," 
when the boys of the place go about with a stone in a sling ; with this 
they strike the doors, and afterwards slily throw in winkle-shells, dirt, 
&c. Mr. T. G. Couch says : '' They strike violently against the doors 
of the houses and ask for money to make a feast." 

At St. Ives on the Saturday before Advent Sunday " Fair-mo " 
(pig fair) is held. This town is much celebrated locally for maca- 
roons, a great many are then bought as " fairings." The St. Ives 

Vol. 4.— Part 2. i 


fishing (pilchard) season generally ends in November, consequently 
at this time there is often no lack of money. 

The feast of St. Maddern, or Madron feast, which is also that of 
Penzance (Penzance bemg until recently in that parish), is on Advent 

The last bull-baiting held here was on the " feasten " Monday of 
1813, and took place in the field on which the Union is now built*. 
The bull was supplied by a squire from Kimyel, in the neighbouring 
parish of Paul. A ship's anchor, which must have been carried up 
hill from Penzance quay, a distance of nearly three miles, was firmly 
fixed in the centre of the field, and to it the bull was tied. Bull- 
baiting was soon after discontinued in Cornwall. The following 
account of the last I had from a gentleman well known in the 
county. He says, " This I think took place in a field adjoining Pon- 
sondane bridge, in Gulval parish, at the east of Penzance, in the 
summer of 1814. I remember the black bull being led by four men. 
The crowd was dispersed early in the evening by a severe thunder- 
storm, which much alarmed the people, who thought it (I was led to 
believe) a judgment from heaven." — (T.S.B.) 

The second Thursday before Christmas is in East Cornwall kept 
by the " tinners " (miners) as a holiday in honour of one of the 
reputed discoverers of tin. It is known as Picrous-day. Chewidden 
Thursday (White Thursday), another " tinners' " holiday, falls always 
on the last clear Thursday before Christmas-day. Tradition says it is 
the anniversary of the day on which " white tin " (smelted tin) was 
first made or sold in Cornwall. 

On Christmas-eve, in iiast as well as West Cornwall, poor women, 
sometimes as many as twenty in a party, call on their richer neighbours 
asking alms. This is " going a gooding." 

At Falmouth the lower classes formerly expected from all the shop- 
keepers, from whom they bought any of their Christmas groceries, a 
slice of cake and a small glass of gin. Some of the oldest established 
tradespeople still observe this custom ; but it will soon be a thing of 
the past. 

In some parts of the county it is customary for each household to 
make a batch of currant cakes on. Christmas-eve. These cakes are 


made in the ordinary manner, coloured with saffron, as is the custom 
in these parts. On this occasion the peculiarity of the cakes is, that 
a small portion of the dough in the centre of each top is pulled 
up and made into a form which resembles a very small cake on the 
top of a large one, and this centre-piece is usually called " the 
Christmas." Each person in a house has his or her especial cake, 
and every person ought to taste a small piece of every other person's 
cake. Similar cakes are also bestowed on the hangers-on of the 
establishment, such as laundresses, sempstresses, charwomen, &c., and 
even some people who are in the receipt of weekly charity call, as a 
matter of course, for their Christmas cakes. The cakes must not be cut 
until Christmas-day, it being probably ''unlucky to eat them sooner." 
— (Geo. C. Boase, Notes and Queries, 5th series, Dec. 21st, 1878.) 

The materials to make these and nearly all the cakes at this season 
were at one time given by the grocers to their principal customers. 

In Cornwall, as in the other English counties, the houses are at 
Christmas " dressed up " with evergreens, sold in small bunches, 
called " Penn'orths of Christmas " ; and two hoops fastened one in the 
other by nails at the centres are gaily decorated with evergreens, 
apples, oranges, &c., and suspended from the middle beam in the 
ceiling of the best kitchen. This is the " bush," or '* kissing bush." 
At night a lighted candle is put in it, stuck on the bottom nail ; but 
once or twice lately I have seen a Chinese lantern hanging from the 
top one. This is an innovation. 

In a few remote districts on Christmas-eve children may be, after 
nightfall, occasionally (but rarely) found dancing around painted 
lighted candles placed in a box of sand. This custom was very 
general fifty years ago. The church towers, too, are sometimes illu- 
minated. This, of course, on the coast can only be done in very calm 
weather. The tower of Zennor church (Zennor is a village on the 
north coast of Cornwall, between St. Ives and St. Just) was lit up in 
1883, for the first time since 1866. 

When open chimneys were universal in farmhouses the Christmas 
stock, mock, or block (the log), on which a rude figure of a man had 
been chalked, was kindled with great ceremony; in some parts with 
a piece of a charred wood that had been saved from the last year's 

I 2 


" block." A log in Cornwall is almost always called a " block." 
'' Throw a block on tlie fire." 

Candles painted by some member of the family were often lighted 
at the same time. 

The choir from the parish church and dissenting chapels go from 
house to house singing '' curls " (carols), for which they are given 
money or feasted ; but the quaint old carols, " The first good joy that 
Mary had," " I saw three ships come sailing in,'' common forty years 
ago, are now never heard. The natives of Cornwall have been always 
famous for their carols, some of their tunes are very old. Even the 
Knockers, Sprig-gans, and all the underground spirits that may be 
always heard working where there is tin (and who are said to be the 
ghosts of the Jews who crucified Jesus), in olden times held mass and 
sang carols on Christmas-eve. 

At the plentiful supper always provided on this night,* egg-hot, or 
eggy-hot, was the principal drink. It was made with eggs, hot beer, 
sugar, and rum, and was poured from one jug into another until it 
became quite white and covered with froth. A sweet giblet pie was 
one of the standing dishes at a Christmas dinner — a kind of mince-pie, 
into which the giblets of a goose, boiled and finely chopped, were put 
instead of beef. Cornwall is noted for its pies, that are eaten on all 
occasions ; some of them are curious mixtures, such as squab-pie, 
which is made with layers of well-seasoned fat mutton and apples, with 
onions and raisins. Mackerel pie : the ingredients of this are mackerel 
and parsley stewed in milk, then covered with a paste and baked. 
When brought to table a hole is cut in the paste, and a basin of 
clotted cream thrown in it. Muggetty pie, made from sheep's entrails 
(muggets), parsley, and cream. " The devil is afraid to come into 
Cornwall for fear of being baked in a pie." There is a curious 
Christmas superstition connected with the Fogo, Vug, or Vow (local 
names for a cove) at Pendeen, in North St. Just. 

" At dawn on Christmas -day the spirit of the * Vow ' has frequently 
been seen just within the entrance near the cove, in the form of a 
beautiful lady dressed iji white, with a red rose in her mouth. There 

* A very general one for poor people in some parts of the country on Christmas- 
eve was pilchards and unpeeled potatoes boiled together in one " crock." 


were persons living a few years since who had seen the fair but not 
less fearful vision ; for disaster was sure to visit thos«) who intruded 
on the spirit's morning airing." — (Bottrell, Traditions, ^c, West 
Cornwall., 2nd series.) 

The following is an account by an anonymous writer of a Christmas 
custom in East Cornwall : — 

" In some places the parishioners walk in procession, visiting the 
principal orchards in the parish. In each orchard one tree is selected, 
as the representative of the rest ; this is saluted with a certain form of 
words, which have in them the form of an incantation. They then 
sprinkle the tree with cider, or dash a bowl of cider against it, to 
ensure its bearing plentifully the ensuing year. In other places the 
farmers and their servants only assemble on the occasion, and after 
immersing apples in cider hang them on the apple-trees. They then 
sprinkle the trees with cider; and after uttering a formal incanta- 
tion, they dance round it (or rather round them), and return to the 
farmhouse to conclude these solemn rites with copious draughts of 

" In Warleggan, on Christmas-eve, it was customary for some of the 
household to put in the fire (bank it up), and the rest to take a jar 
of cider, a bottle, and a gun to the orchard, and put a small bough 
into the bottle. Then they said : — 

" Here's to thee, old apple tree ! 
Hats full, packs full, great bushel-bags full I 
Hurrah ! and fire off the gun." 

—(Old Farmer, Mid Cornwall, through T. G. Couch, Sept. 1883, 
W. Antiquary.^ 

The words chaunted in East Cornwall were : — 

" Health to thee, good apple-tree, 
Pocket-fulls, hat- fulls, peck-fulls, bushel-bag fulls." 

" At one time small sugared cakes were laid on the branches. This 
curious custom has been supposed to be a propitiation of some spirit." 
— (Mrs. Damant, Cowes, through Folk-Lore Society.) 


From Christmas to Twelftli-tide parties of mummers known as 
Goose or Geese-dancers paraded the streets in all sorts of disguises, 
with masks on. They often behaved in such an unruly manner that 
women and children were afraid to venture out. If the doors of the 
houses were not locked they would enter uninvited and stay, playing 
all kinds of antics, until money was given them to go away. *' A 
well-known character amongst them, about fifty years ago (1862), was 
the hobby-horse, represented by a man carrying a piece of wood in 
the form of a horse's head and neck, with some contrivance for 
opening and shutting the mouth with a loud snapping noise, the 
performer being so covered with a horsecloth or hide of a horse as to 
resemble the animal, whose curvetings, biting and other motions he 
imitated. Some of these ' guise-dancers ' occasionally masked them- 
selves with the skins of the head of bullocks having the horns on." — 
{The Land's End District, by R. Edmonds.) 

Sometimes they were more ambitious and acted a version of the old 
play^ " St. George and the Dragon," which differed but little from 
that current in other counties. 

Bottrell, in his Traditions in W, Cornwall (2nd series), gives large 

extracts froni another Christmas-play, *' Duffy and the Devil." It 

turns upon the legend, common in all countries, of a woman who had 

sold herself to a devil, who was to do her knitting or spinning for her. 

He was to claim his bargain at the end of three years if she could not 

find out his name before the time expired. Of course, she gets it by 

stratagem ; her husband,' who knows nothing of the compact, first 

meets the devil, whilst out hunting, the day before the time is up, and 

makes him half-drunk. An old woman in Duffy's pay (Witch Bet) 

completes the work, and in that state the devil sings the following 

words, ending with his name, which Bet remembers and tells her 

mistress : — 

" I've knit and spun for her 
Three years to the day ; 
To-morrow she shall ride with me 
Over land and over sea. 
Far away ! far away ! 
For she can never know 
That my name is * Tarrawav.' " 


Bet and some other witches then sing in chorus : — 

" By night and by day 
"We will dance and play 
With our noble captain, 
Tarraway ! Tarraway ! " 

Mr. Robert Hunt in his Eomances and Drolls of Old Cornwall has 
a variation of this play in which the devil sings — 

" Duffy my lady, you'll never know — what ? 
That my name is Ferry-top, Ferry-top — top." 

These "goose-dancers" became such a terror to the respectable 
inhabitants of Penzance that the Corporation put them down about 
ten years since, and every Christmas-eve a notice is posted in con- 
spicuous places forbidding their appearance in the streets, but they 
still perambulate the streets of St. Ives. Guise-dancing wit must 
have very much deteriorated since the beginning of the present 
century, as writers before that time speak of the mirth it afforded ; 
and the saying, " as good as a Christmas-play," is commonly used to 
describe a very witty or funny thing. 

It was the custom in Scilly eighty years ago for girls to go to 
church on Christmas morning dressed all in white, verifying the old 
proverb — '* pride is never a-cold." 

" On Porthminster Beach on Christmas-day, as seen from the Mala- 
koff, St. Ives, at nine o'clock in the morning the boys began to 
assemble on the beach with their bats and balls. As soon as twelve 
youths arrived a game commenced, called * Rounders.' The first 
thing to be done was to right up the * bickens.' This accomplished, 
the sides were chosen in the following manner : — Two of the best 
players, whom we will call Matthew and Phillip, went aside and 
selected two objects — the new and old pier. The old pier was Matthew 
and the new pier was Phillip. After this was arranged the * mopper ' 
selected the old pier, which meant that he would rather have Matthew 
his side than Phillip. Then Phillip selected some one for his side ; 
and so it went on until the whole twelve were elected one side or the 
other. Then they tossed up for the first innings. Phillip's side won 
the toss, and it was their luck to go in first. While they are taking off 
their jackets and getting ready to go in I will briefly describe the game, 


*' The bickens, four in number, were piles of sand thrown up ; each 
one being about ten yards from one another and arranged so as to 
form a square. In the centre of the square the bowler was placed 
with ball in hand. Behind the batsman stands the ' tip,' while the 
other four were off a long way waiting for the long hits. The coats 
off, in went the first batsman. The ball was thrown towards him and 
he tipped it. The tip instantly took the ball and threw it at the 
batsman, and hit him before he arrived at the first bicken, and he was 
consequently out. The second batsman had better luck ; for on the 
ball being thrown to him he sent it out to sea, and by that means he 
ran a rounder, or in other words he ran around the four bickens 
without being hit by the ball. The next batsman went in. The ball 
was thrown to him, when, lo ! it went whizzing into the bowler's 
hands and was caught. This unlucky hit and lucky catch got the 
whole side out, before three of them had a chance to show their skill. 
The other side then went in, laughing at the discomfiture of their 
opponents. The tables, however, were very soon turned ; for the very 
first hit was caught and this produced a row, and the game was 
broken up ! - 

" I then went to the next lot : they were playing ' catchers.' There 
is only one bicken required in this game, and at this stood a lad 
called Watty, with bat and ball in hand. At last he hit the ball, and 
up it went flying in the air, descended, and passed through the hands 
of a boy named Peters. Peters took the ball from the sand and asked 
Watty, ' How many ? ' Watty replied — 
' Two a good scat, 
Try for the bat.' 
Peters threw the ball to the bicken, but it stopped about three 
lengths short. Watty took the ball up and again sent it a great way. 
The question was again asked, and Watty gave the same answer. 
Again the ball was thrown to the bicken, but this time with better 
success ; for it stopped at the distance of the length of the bat and 
so was within the distance named. Williams then went in. He was 
a strong lusty fellow, and the ball was sent spinning along the sand. 
It was picked up by Curnow, who asked, ' How many ? ' 
* Three a good scat, 
. Try for the bat.' 


The ball was thrown home and rolled about three bats from the 
bicken. This point, however, was the breaking-up of the game, for 
Williams said it was more than three bats off, whilst Curnow main- 
tained that it was not three bats off, and there being no chance of a 
compromise being arrived at the game was broken up. 

^' The next party was one of young men. They were playing 
rounders with a wooden ball, instead of an india-rubber one, as is 
generally used. There were twelve each side, and the bicken s were 
about 20 yards distant. By this time the tide was out a great way, 
so that there was no fear of the ball being knocked to sea, as was 
the case with the other boys. When I got there they had been play- 
ing for about an hour, and the side that was in had been in about half 
of that time. The first hit I saw was * a beauty ' ! The ball was 
sent about 75 yards and the result was a rounder. Two or three 
other persons went in and did the same thing, and so the game went 
on for about an hour longer, when one of the fellows knocked up a 
catcher and was caught. This side had stayed in for about one hour 
and a half. The other side went in, at about a quarter to three, and 
after playing about another hour they went home to tea. 

^' I went to tea also, but was soon up in the Malakoff again. It was 
so dark that the play was stopped for the time. At about seven 
o'clock the older part of the town began to congregate, and about a 
quarter past seven they began to play * Thursa.' This game is too 
well known to need description, and I need only say that it was 
played about one hour, when they began to form a ring with the 
intention, I supposed, of playing that best of all games, ' Kiss-in-the 
Ring.' I could stay on the Malakoff no longer, but ran as fast as 
my legs could carry me to the scene of operation, and arrived there 
just in time to commence with the others. The first person that went 
out was a fine, blooming-looking girl, about twenty. I quite fell in 
love with her. It was a case of love at first sight, for I had never 
before seen her. Well, around the ring she went, skipping along so 
briskly; while we were waiting, with our hearts almost still, to know 
who the fortunate creature would be that she would select. But, 
horror of horrors ! the handkerchief was thrown upon me ! My 
heart stopped beating, my breath was fairly gone, and it was more 


than a minute before 1 could start in the chase. But at last away 
I went, and, after running a long time, I managed to catch her and 
secured the loving token of capture. The kiss given, we went back 
to the ring, and thus the game proceeded." — (Cornishman, 1881.) 

On St. Stephen's-day, 26th December, before the days of gun- 
licences, every man or boy who could by any means get a gun went 
out shooting, and it was dangerous to walk the lanes. The custom 
is said to have had its origin in the legend of one of St. Stephen's 
guards being awakened by a bird just as his prisoner was going to 
escape. A similar practice prevailed in the neighbourhood of Pen- 
zance on "feasten Monday," the day after Advent Sunday ; but on 
neither day have I ever heard of any religious idea connected with the 

In the week after Christmas -day a fair is held at Launceston (and 
also at Okehampton in Devonshire), called '* giglet fair " (a *' giglet 
or giglot" is a giddy young woman). It is principally attended by 
young people. " At this ' giglet market,' or wife-market, the rustic 
swain was privileged with self-introduction to any of the nymphs 
around him, so that he had a good opportunity of choosing a suitable 
partner if tired of a single life." — (Britton and Brayley's Devon and 

It is unlucky to begin a voyage on Childermas (Innocents-day), 
also to wash clothes, or to do any but necessary household work. 

On New Year's-eve in the villages of East Cornwall, soon after 
dusk, parties of men, from four to six in a party, carrying a small 
bowl in their hands, went from house to house begging money to 
make a feast. They opened the doors without knocking, called out 
Warsail, and sang, — 

" These poor jolly Warsail boys 
Come travelling through the mire." 

This custom was common fifty years since, and may still be ob- 
served in remote rural districts. There is one saint whose name is 
familiar to all in Cornwall, but whose sex is unknown. This saint has 
much to answer for ; promises made, but never intended to be kept, 
are all to be fulfilled on next St. Tibb's eve, a day that some folks 


say '* falls between the old and new year" ; others describe it as one 
that comes '' neither before nor after Christmas." 

Parties are general in Cornwall on New Year's-eve to watch in the 
New Year and wish friends health and happiness ; but I know of no 
peculiar customs, except that before retiring to rest the old women 
opened their Bibles at hap-hazard to find out their luck for the 
coming year. The text on which the fore-finger of the right hand 
rested was supposed to foretell the future. And money, generally a 
piece of silver, was placed on the threshold, to be brought in the first 
thing on the following day, that there might be no lack of it for the 
year. Nothing was ever lent on New Year's-day, as little as possible 
taken out, but all that could be brought into the house. " I have 
even known the dust of the floor swept inwards." — (T. G. Couch, W, 
Antiquary ^ September, 1883.) 

Steps of doors on New Year's-day were formerly sanded for good 
luck, because I suppose people coming into the house were sure to 
bring some of it in with them sticking to their feet. 

Many elderly people at the beginning of the present century still 
kept to the *' old style," and held their Christmas-day on Epiphany. 
On the eve of that day they said *' the cattle in the fields and stalls 
never lay down, but at midnight turned their faces to the east and 
fell on their knees." 

Twelfth-day (old Christmas-day) was a time of general feasting and 
merriment. Into the Twelfth-day cake were put a wedding-ring, a 
sixpence, and a thimble. It was cut into as many portions as there 
were guests ; the person who found the wedding-ring in his (or her) 
portion would be married before the year was out; the holder of the 
thimble would never be married, and the one who got the sixpence 
would die rich. After candlelight many games were played around 
the open fires. I will describe one : — " Robin's alight." A piece of 
stick was set on fire, and whirled rapidly in the hands of the first 
player, who repeated the words — 

" Robin's alight, and if he go out I'll saddle your back." 

It was then passed on, and the person who let the spark die had to 
pay a forfeit. —(West Cornwall.) 


This game in East Cornwall was known as *' Jack's alive." 

*' Jack's alive and likely to live, 
If he die in my hand a pawn I'll give." 

In this county forfeits are always called " pawns " ; they are cried by 
the holder of them, saying, — 

" Here's a pawn and a very pretty pawn ! 
And what shall the owner of this pawn do ? " 

After the midnight supper, at which in one village in the extreme 
west a pie of four-and-twenty blackbirds always appeared, many 
spells to forecast the future were practised. The following account of 
them was given to me by a friend. He says — " I engaged in them 
once at Sennen (the village at the Land's End) with a lot of girls, 
but as my object was only to spoil sport and make the girls laugh or 
speak, it was not quite satisfactory. I suppose the time to which I 
refer is over forty years ago. After making up a large turf fire, for 
hot ' umers ' (embers) and pure water are absolutely necessary in these 
divinations, the young people silently left the house in single file, to 
pull the rushes and gather the ivy -leaves by means of which they were 
to learn whether they were to be married, and to whom; and if any, 
or how many, of their friends were to die before the end of the year. 
On leaving and on returning each of these Twelfth-night diviners 
touched the ' cravel' with the forehead and 'wished.' The cravel is 
the tree that preceded lintels in chimney -comers, and its name from 
this custom may have been derived from the verb ' to crave.' Had 
either of the party inadvertently broken the silence before the rushes 
and ivy-leaves had been procured they would all have been obliged to 
retrace their steps to the house and again touch the cravel ; but this 
time all went well. When we came back those who wished to know 
their fate named the rushes in pairs and placed them in the hot 
embers : one or two of the engaged couples being too shy to do this 
for themselves, their friends, amidst much laughing, did it for them. 
The manner in which the rushes burned showed if the young people 
were to be married to the, person chosen or not : some, of course, 
burnt well, others parted, and one or two went out altogether. The 
couples that burnt smoothly were to be wedded, and the one named 


after the rush that lasted longest outlived the other. This settled, one 
ivy-leaf was thrown on the fire; the number of cracks it made was the 
number of years before the wedding would take place. Then two 
were placed on the hot ashes ; the cracks they gave this time showed 
how many children the two would have. We then drew ivy-leaves 
named after present or absent friends through a wedding ring, and 
put them into a basin of water which we left until the next morning. 
Those persons whose leaves had shrivelled or turned black in the 
night were to die before the next Twelfth-tide, and those who were so 
unfortunate as to find their leaves spotted with red, by some violent 
death, unless a *pellar' (wise man) could by his skill and incanta- 
tions grant protection. These prophecies through superstition some- 
times unluckily fulfilled themselves." 

During the twelve days of Christmas card-playing was a very 
favourite amusement with all classes . Whilst the old people enjoyed 
their game of whist with swabbers, the young ones had their round 
games. I will append the rules of two or three for those who would 
like to try them. 

Whist (or whisk, as I have heard an old lady call it and maintain 
that that was its proper name) with *' swabbers." 

This game, which was played as recently as 1880, nightly, by four 
maiden ladies at Falmouth, is like ordinary whist ; but each player 
before beginning to play puts into the pool a fixed sum for " swabs." 
The " swab-cards " are — ace and deuce of trumps, ace of hearts and 
knave of clubs. The four cards are of equal value ; but should hearts 
be trumps the ace would count double. 

" Board-'em," a round game that can be played by any number of 
players, from two to eight ; it is played for fish, and there must never 
be less than six fish in the pool. Six cards are dealt to each person ; 
and the thirteenth, if two are playing, the nineteenth if three, and so 
on, is turned up for trumps. The forehand plays ; the next j^layer, if 
he has one, must follow suit, if not, he may play another suit, or 
trump. The highest card of the original suit, if not trumped, takes 
the trick and one or more fish, according to the number staked. If 
you have neither card in your hand that you think will make a trick 
you may decline to play, in which case you only lose your stake ; but 


should you play and fail to take a trick you pay for the whole company, 
and are said to " be boarded." 

" Ranter-go-round " was formerly played in four divisions marked 
with chalk upon a tea-tray ; or even, in some cases, on a bellows — it 
is now played on a table, and is called " Miss Joan." Any number 
of players may join in it. The first player throws down any card of 
any suit, and says : — 

" Here's a as you may see. 

2nd Player — Here's another as good as he. 

^rd Player — And here's the best of all the three. 

^.th Player — And here's Miss Joan, come tickle me." 

The holder of the fourth card wins the trick. He sometimes added 
the words wee-wee; but these are now generally omitted. If the 
person sitting next to the forehand has neither one of the cards 
demanded (one of the same value as the first played in another suit), 
he pays one to the pool, as must all in turn who fail to produce the 
right cards. The player of the third may have the fourth in his hand, 
in which case all the others pay. The holder of the most tricks wins 
the game and takes the pool. 

I once, about thirty years since, at this season of the year, joined 
some children at Camborne who were playing a very primitive game 
called by them " pinny-ninny." A basin turned upside down was 
placed in the centre of a not very large round table. The players 
were supplied with small piles of pins — not the well-made ones sold 
in papers, but clumsy things with wire heads — " pound-pins." A large 
bottle full of them might, then, always be seen in the general shop 
window of every little country village. Each in turn dropped a pin 
over the side of the basin, and he whose pin fell and formed a cross 
on the top of the heap was entitled to add them to his own pile. 
This went on until one player had beggared all the others. Poor 
children before Christmas often begged pins to play this game, and 
their request was always granted by the gift of two. 

A wishing-well, near St. Austell, was sometimes called Pennameny 
Well, from the custom of dropping pins into it. Pcdna-a-mean is 
the old Cornish for " heads-and-tails." — (Sec Divination at St. Roche 
and Madron Well.) 



All Christmas-cakes must be eaten by the night of Twelfth-tide, as 
it is unlucky to have any left, and all decorations must be taken down 
on the next day, because for every forgotten leaf of evergreen a 
ghost will be seen in the house in the course of the ensuing year. 
This latter superstition does not prevail, however, in all parts of 
Cornwall, as in some districts a small branch is kept to scare away 
evil spirits. 

January 24th, St. Paurs-eve, is a holiday with the miners, and is 
called by them Paul pitcher- day, from a custom they have of setting 
up a water-pitcher, which they pelt with stones until it is broken in 
pieces. A new one is afterwards bought and carried to a beer-shop 
to be filled with beer. 

" There is a curious custom prevalent in some parts of Cornwall of 
throwing broken pitchers and other earthen vessels against the doors 
of dwelling-houses on the eve of the conversion of St. Paul, thence 
locally called Paul pitcher-night. On that evening parties of young 
people perambulate the parishes in which the custom is retained, 
exclaiming as they throw the sherds, * St. Paul's-eve, and here's a 
heave.' According to the received notions the first heave cannot be 
objected to ; but, upon its being repeated, the inhabitants of the 
house whose door is thus attacked may, if they can, seize the 
offenders and inflict summary justice upon them." — (F. M., Notes and 
Queries^ March, 1874.) 

I have heard of this practice from a native of East Cornwall, who 
told me the pitchers were filled with broken sherds, filth, &c. 

The weather on St. Paul's day, still, with the old people, foretells 
the weather for the ensuing year, and the rhyme common to all 
England is repeated by them : — 

" If St. Paul's day be fine and clear," &c. 

St. Blazey, a village in East Cornwall, is so named in honour of 
St. Blaize, who is said to have landed at Par, a small neighbouring 
seaport, when he came on a visit to England. His feast, which is 
held on 3rd February, would not be worth mentioning were it not 
for the fact that — " This saint is invoked in the county for toothache, 


while applying to the tooth the candle that burned on the altar of 
the church dedicated to him. The same candles are good for sore- 
throats and curing diseases in cattle." — (Mrs. Damant, Cowes.) 

On the Monday after St. Ives feast, which falls on Quinquagesima 
Sunday, an annual hurling-match is held on the sands. Most writers 
on Cornwall have described the old game. The following account is 
taken from The Land's End District^ 1862, by R. Edmonds : — 

" A ball about the size of a cricket-ball, formed of cork, or light 
wood, and covered with silver, was hurled into the air, midway 
between the goals. Both parties immediately rushed towards it, each 
striving to seize and carry it to its own goal. In this contest, when 
any individual having possession of the ball found himself over- 
powered or outrun by his opponents, he hurled it to one of his own 
side, if near enough, or, if not, into some pool, ditch, furze, brake, 
garden, house, or other place of concealment, to prevent his adversaries 
getting hold of it before his own company could arrive." 

The hurlers, quaintly says Carew {Survey of Cornwall, p. 74), 
*' Take their next way oner hills, dales, hedges, ditches — yea, and 
thorou bushes, briers, mires, plashes, and rivers whatsoever — so as you 
shall sometimes see twenty or thirty lie tugging together in the water, 
scrambling and scratching for the ball. A play verily both rude and 

Hurling between two or more parishes, and between one parish 
and another, has long ceased in Cornwall ; but hurling by one part of 
a parish against another is still played at St. Ives, as well as other 
places in Cornwall. At St. Ives all the Toms, Wills, and Johns are 
on one side, while those having other Christian names range them- 
selves on the opposite. At St. Columb (East Cornwall) the towns- 
people contend with the countrymen ; at Truro, the married men with 
the unmarried ; at Helston, two streets with all the other streets; on 
the 2nd of May, when their town- bounds are renewed. 

" Fair-play is good play," is the hurlers' motto. This is some- 
times engraven on their balls in the old Cornish language. Private 
families possess some of these balls won by their ancestors early in 
the last century that are handed religiously down as heirlooms. 


A Druidic circle at St. Cleer, in East Cornwall, is known as the 
Hurlers, from a tradition that a party of men hurling on a Sunday 
were there for their wickedness turned into stone. 

Peasen or Paisen Monday is the Monday before Shrove Tuesday ; 
it is so called in East Cornwall from a custom of eating pea-soup 
there on this day. This practice was once so universal in some 
parishes that an old farmer of Lower St. Columb, who had a special 
aversion to pea-soup, left his home in the morning, telling his wife 
that he should not come back to dinner, but spend the day with a 
friend. He returned two or three hours after in great disgust, as at 
every house in the village he had been asked to stay and taste their 
delicious pea-soup. 

" This day also in East Cornwall bears the name of ' Hall Monday,' 
why I know not. And at dusk on the evening of the same day it is 
the custom for boys, and in some cases for those above the age of 
boys, to prowl about the streets with short clubs, and to knock loudly 
at every door, running off to escape detection on the slightest sign of 
a motion within. If, however, no attention be excited, and especially 
if any article be discovered, negligently exposed or carelessly guarded, 
then the things are carried away, and on the following morning are 
seen displayed in some conspicuous place, to disclose the disgraceful 
want of vigilance supposed to characterise the owner. The time 
when this is practised is called * Nicky Nan ' night, and the indi- 
viduals concerned are supposed to represent some imps of darkness, 
that seize on and expose unguarded moments." — (^Polperro^ p. 151, 
by T. G. Couch.) 

A custom nearly similar to this was practised in Scilly in the last 

The dinner on Shrove Tuesday in many Cornish houses consists of 
fried eggs and bacon, or salt pork, followed by the universal pancake, 
which is eaten by all classes. It is made the full size of the pan, and 
currants are put into the batter. 

In Penzance large quantities of limpets and periwinkles are gathered 
in the afternoon by poor people, to be cooked for their supper. This 
they call " going a-trigging." Any kind of shell-fish picked up at 
low water in this district is known as trig-meat. 

Vol. 4. — Part 2. k 


Many other customs were formerly observed in Penzance on Shrove 
Tuesday, peculiar, I believe, to this town. 

Women and boys stood at the corners of the streets, with well- 
greased, sooty hands, which they rubbed over people's faces. I 
remember, not more than thirty years ago, seeing a little boy run into 
a house in a great hurry, and ask for what was he wanted. He had 
met a woman who had put her hands affectionately on each side of 
his face, and said, " Your father has been looking for you, my dear." 
She had left the marks of her dirty fingers. 

The butchers' market was always thoroughly cleaned in the 
afternoon, to see if the town hose were in perfect repair, and great 
merriment was often excited by the firemen turning the full force of 
the water on some unwary passer-by. 

People, too, were occasionally deluged by having buckets of water 
thrown over them. Every Shrove Tuesday after dusk men and boys 
went about and threw handfuls of shells, bottles of filth, &c., in at the 
doors. It was usual then for drapers to keep their shops open until a 
very late hour; and I have been told that boys were occasionally 
bribed by the assistants to throw something particularly disagreeable 
in on the floors, that the masters might be frightened, and order the 
shops to be shut. Still later in the evening signs were taken down, 
knockers wrenched off, gates unhung and carried to some distance. 
This last was done even as far down as 1881. Pulling boats up and 
putting them in a mill-pool (now built over) was a common practice 
at Mousehole in the beginning of the century. 

*' In Landewednack on Shrove Tuesday children from the ages of 
six to twelve perambulate the parish begging for * Col-perra ' (pro- 
bably an old Cornish word) ; but, whatever be its meaning, they 
expect to receive eatables or halfpence. As few refuse to give, they 
collect during the day a tolerable booty, in the shape of money, eggs, 
buns, apples, &c. The custom has existed from time immemorial, but 
none of the inhabitants are acquainted with its origin." — (A Week in 
the Lizard J by Eev. C. A. Johns, B.B., F.L.S.) 

I have been favoured by the Eev. S. Bundle, Godolphin, with the 
formula repeated by the children on this occasion (now almost for- 


gotten) : " Hen-cock, han-cock, give me a * tabban ' (morsel), or else 
* Col-perra' shall come to your door." 

Boys at St. Ives, Scilly, and other places went about with stones 
tied to strings, with which they struck the doors, saying : — 

" Give me a pancake, now ! now ! now ! 
Or I'll knock in your door with a row, tow, tow ! " 

This custom has only lately (if it has yet) quite died out. Cock- 
fighting at Shrovetide was once a very favourite amusement in Cora- 
wall, and in some of the most remote western villages has until 
recently been continued. " The Cock-pit" at Penzance, a small part 
of which still remains as a yard at the Union Hotel, belonged to and 
was kept up by the Corporation until (I think) the beginning of the 
present century, 

" Sir Rose Price, when young, was a great patron of the pit between 
the years 1780-1790. His father disapproved, and in consideration 
of his son giving up cock-fighting bought him a pack of hounds, the 
first foxhounds west of Truro." — (T. S. B.) This may account for the 
Western Hounds always meeting on a Shrove Tuesday. 

" At St. Columb, about sixty years ago, on Shrove Tuesday, each 
child in a dame's school was expected by the mistress to bring an egg 
and at twelve o'clock the children had an egg-battle. Two children 
stood facing each other, each held an eggj and struck the end of it 
against that of the opponent lengthwise, the result being that one or 
both were broken. 

** An unbroken egg was used again and again to fight the rest, and 
so the battle raged until all, or all but one, of the eggs were broken. 
The child who at the end of the fight held a sound egg was considered 
to be the conqueror, and was glorified accordingly. To save the 
contents of the eggs, which were the perquisite of the mistress, she 
held a plate beneath ; and at the end of the battle the children were 
dismissed. And the old lady having picked out all the broken shells, 
proceeded to prepare her pancakes, of which she made her dinner." — 
(Fred. W. P. Jago, M.B., Plymouth, W. Antiquary, March, 1884.) 

" It must be now about thirty years ago that I was a day-scholar at 
the National School of St. Columb, and it was the custom then for 
each boy and girl to bring an egg. One of the senior boys stood at a 


132 children's amusements. 

table and wrote the name of the donor upon eacli. At about eleven 
o'clock the schoolmaster would produce a large punchbowl, and as 
he took up each egg he read the name, and broke the egg into the 
bowl. Eggs at that time were sold at three for a penny." — (W. B., 
Bodmin, W. Antiquary, March, 1884.) 

In the eastern part of the county at the beginning of Lent a straw 
figure dressed in cast-off cothes, and called '* Jack-o'-lent," was not 
long since paraded through the streets, and afterwards hung. Some- 
thing of this kind is common on the Continent. 

The figure is supposed to respresent Judas Iscariot. A slovenly 
ragged person is sometimes described as a " Jack-o'-lent." 

( To he continued.) 


By the Rev. Walter Gregor. 

I HE following amusements for infants have, with their 
rhymes, been gathered, with few exceptions, from the 
north-east of Scotland. 

Some of the forms of the rhymes differ but little from 
each other, so little that it may be deemed useless to have collected, 
and printed them. My only excuse for doing so is, that the smallest 
scrap of folk-lore has to me a sacredness that makes it worthy of 

So far as my limited means have allowed, I have made reference to 
the games and their formulae as found in other countries. Without 
doubt Holland, Germany, Denmark, and the Scandinavian Peninsula 
would afford much closer resemblances in the formula3 than the Neo- 
Latin nations. My distance from libraries containing the necessary 
books of reference has prevented me from entering to any extent on 
this interesting point. Some one else may take up the subject. 

children's AMUSEMENTS. 133 

The amusements, which at first sight appear confused, and of no 
purpose almost but to make the child laugh, fall into groups, and are, 
it may be unconsciously to the mother or the nurse, suited for the 
bodily and mental growth of the child. They are, accordingly, with 
the exception of the first, arranged as — I. Amusements of touch, 
subdivided into (A) those of the face, beginning with the chin, 
naming each part by its own proper name ; (B) the face, beginning 
with the brow, and using fanciful names ; (C) the face, with other 
parts of the body, under figurative names, indicating the character of 
the part touched ; (D) of the whole body, beginning with the toe, 
and ending with the head. II. Amusements with the fingers and 
hand ; III. amusements with the feet and legs ; IV. an amusement 
with the belly ; V. Amusements of riding. 

As for the rhymes, they seem to fall into versions ; and it is a 
curious problem how these different forms have arisen, and how the 
same version, with slight variations, is sometimes found in places 
widely apart. 

As the dialect may have difficulties to some, a glossary has been 
given. One of its peculiarities is the use of diminutives — not in one 
degree but in several — thus, hot becomes JUyJittie,Jittick,Jitttckiej bit 
Jittickie, wee bit Jlttickie, wee wee bit fitticTcie (see " Clap,, clap 
handles"). Not only are nouns diminutivised but adjectives and 
verbs, as — " shinie sharpy," and one would say, "rinie (run) or 
rinckie t' yir bonny beddie ba, my bonny wee dooickie." Two other 
peculiarities may be noticed, viz. wh is pronounced /, as—fah^ 
who ; fahr, where ; fahuj when — when used as an interrogative ; Jin, 
when used to denote a point of time ; and w before r, is pronounced 
V, as — Wright, vricht (ch guttural) ; vratch, wretch; vrang, wrong. 

" Teet, or Teet-bo." 

This is a very simple amusement for infants. When the infant is 
sitting on the mother's, or nurse's knee, or in her arms, another 
touches the child's head or back to awaken attention. When the 
child looks round the one that touched it withdraws a little, or goes 
to the other side, and says, " teet ! " or " teet-bo ! " The child turns 


to that side, but the player is off to the opposite side, and repeats 
the same words, and so on, from one side to the other, to the great 
delight of the child. 

Another form is, when the infant is old enough to stand and walk, 
it gets behind a chair or table, or any other piece of furniture 
suitable, and looks from behind it, or through a hole in it, or round a 
corner of it, when the one that wishes to create amusement for it 
cries out, " teet ! " or " teet-bo ! " or " bo ! " and sometimes adds : 
*' Fah (who, whom) divv (do) I see ? " The child withdraws and 
looks, it may be, a second or two after, from the same place or from 
another, when the same words are spoken. This goes on as long as 
the child chooses. 

This game corresponds with the Spanish game " Cu ? . , . tras ! " * 


(A)—'* Chin Cherry." 

This amusement consists in the mother or the nurse placing the 
infant on her knee face to face with herself, and then touching with 
her forefinger the different parts of the face, mentioning the part 
touched : — 

{a) — " Chin cherry ; 
Moo merry ; 
Niz nappy, 
Ee winky 
Broo brinky 
Ower head an awa', Jock." (Rosehearty.) 

(})) — " Chin cherry 
Moo merry 
Nose nappy 
Ee winky, 
O'er the hill an awa' tae Robbie Linkie." (Pitsligo.) 

* liavista de EsjJana, t. cv. pp. 95-98. Biblioteca de las Tradiciones j^ojm- 
Ifiri's Espanolas t. ii. pp. 119, 120. 

children's amusements. 135 

(c) — " Chin cheery, 
Mooie merry 
Nosie nappy, 
Eenie winky, 
Brooie brinky, 
Ower the hill, an awa', braid face." 

(Mrs. Moir, Kinnethmont.) 

(^d) — " Chin cherry, 
Moo merry, 
Nose nappy 
Ee winky, 
Broo brinky, 
Ower the hill, an far awa'." (Mrs. Gardiner, Banff.) 

(c)— " Chin cherry. 
Moo merry, 
Nose nappy, 
Ee winky, 
Broo brinky. 
Cock up, jenky." (Mrs. Eraser, New Byth.) 

(/)_« Chin cherry. 
Moo merry, 
Nose nappy, 
Ee winky, 
Broo brinky. 
Up, Jeck, an awa' wi't." (Mrs. Gardiner, Banff.) 

{g) — " Chin cherry. 
Moo merry. 
Nose nappy, 
Ee winky, 
Broo brinky. 
Up cock's tailie, an awa' wi't.'" (Mrs. Chrystie, Elgin.) 

(Ji)—" Chin cherry, 
Moo merry. 
Nose nappy, 
Cheek chappy, 

Eee winky, , 

Broo brinky, 
Ower a cock's tail, an awa' wi't." (Fochabers.) 

(i)— " Chin cherry. 
Moo merry, 
Cheek rosey, 
Nose nappy, 
Ee winky, 
Broo brinky, 
Ower the hill, an awa'," (Mrs. Nicol, Tyric. 


Some reverse the order of touching the parts of the face, as the 
following formula shows : — 

(J) — "Broo brenty, 
Ee winky, 
Niz nappy, 
Cheek cherry, 
Moo merry, 
Chin chappy." * (Pitsligo.) 

Compare with this the Dutch rhyme beginning "Kintje";t 
" Formulettes du visage" (b, c, d, e, f ) ; | and the Sicilian Varvai'ut- 
teddu.^ ' 

(B) — " Knock at the Doorie." 

In this amusement each part of the head is touched in a manner 

imitative of the action indicated by the words, and the line repeated. 

There are several variants || of the formula : — 

(a) — " Knock at the doorie, (the brow) 
Peep in, (the eye) 
Lift the latch, (the nose) 
Walk in, (the mouth) " (Mr. Moir, Keith.) 

(J)— "Knock at the doorie, 
Peep in, 
Lift the sneckie, 
Clean yir feeties. 
An walk in." (Mrs. Moir, Kinnethmont.) 

(<?) — •' Knock at the door, 
Peep in. 
Lift the sneck, 
Jump in. 
And shut the door behind you." 

(Mrs. Watson, Fraserburgh.) 

* Popular Rhymes of Scotland, by R. Chambers, p. 20, Nursery Rhymes 
and Nursery Tales of England, by Halliwell, pp. 207-208. 

I Ncderlandsche BaTter-en Kinderrijmen verzameld en meegedeeld door Dr. 
0. van Vloten, pp. 2-3, and p. 167 for additional references. 

% Rimes et Jenx de VEnfanee, by E. Rolland, pp. 17-19. 
§ Giuoclii fanclnllesehi Siciliani, raccolti e descritti da Giuseppe Pitru, 
pp. 45-46. 

II Compare this with (a) of "Formulettes du visage" in Rimes ct Jeux de 
VEnfance, by E. Rolland, p. 17. 

chu.dren's amusements. 137 

(C)— " The Broo o' Knowledge." 

In this amusement each part is touched as the words are repeated : 

" This is the broo o' knowledge {k sounded), 
This is the ec o' life, 
This is the biblie ganger, 
This is the pen-knife (k sounded), 
This is the shoother o' mutton, 
This is the milk-pots, 
This is the belly fat."* (Banff.) 

A variant of the third line is : — 

" This is the biblie oflfice-hoose." (Macduff.) 

(D)— "Tae Titly." 

In this amusement the mother or nurse begins with the toe, and 
finishes with the brow. The third formula is defective : — 

Cfl)— « Tae titly, 
Little fitty, 
Shin sharpy. 
Knee knapy, 
Hinchie pinchy, 
Wymie bulgy. 
Breast berry, 
Chin cherry, 
Moo merry, 
Nose nappy, 
Ee winky, 
Broo brinky, 
Ower the croon, 
And awa' wi't." (Mrs. Simpson, Monquhitter.) 

(&)—*' Toe, tip and go, 

Heelie i' the hankie, 
Shinnie sharpy. 
Knee, knip, knapy, 
Wymie thick and fat, 
Chin cherry, 
Moo merry, 
Niz nappy 

* This formula has some resemblance to (g) of " Formulettes du visage," in 
Rimes ct Jcux de VEnfance,\iy E. Rolland, p. 19. 

138 children's amusements. 

Ee winky, 

Broo brinky, 

An ower the hill, and tack pinky." (Pitsligo.) 

(c)— " Tae titlum, 
Fit fitlum, 
Knee knaps, 
Hinch haps." (Strichen.) 


1. — "Brack the Barn." 

The nurse or mother takes the child's hand, and touches the thumb 
and fingers, one by one, and, modulating the voice to suit the conduct 
of each, repeats the following words, laying a particularly mournful 
stress on the words referring to the little finger to call forth sym- 
pathy for the weak : * — 

(a) — " This is the man it brack the bam, 
This is the man it stealt the com, 
This is the man it eat it a', 
This is the man it ran awa', 
Peer little cranie paid for't a'." 

(6) — " This is the man it brack the bam, 
This is the man it stealt the corn. 
This is the man it taul' a', 
This is the man it ran awa', 
Peer cranie dot paid for't a'." 

(c) — " This is the man it brack the barn, 
This is the man it stealt the corn, 
This is the man it ran awa', 
This is the man it tellt a', 
Peer little cranie paid for a', 
An got naething." (Mrs. Moir, Kinnethmont.) 

{d) — " This is the man it brack the bam, 
This is the man it sta' the com. 
This is the man it ran awa', 
This is the man it taul' a'. 
This is peer little cranie dodie, 
It steed at the back o' the door, an paid for a'." 

(Mrs. Gardiner, Banff.) 

* Popular Rhymes of Scotland, by R. Chambers, p. 20. Nursei-y Rhymes 
and Nursery Tales of England, by Halliwell, cccxxxix. and cccxlii. p. 72, and 
p. 207. 

children's amusements. 139 

[e) — " This is the ane it brack the barn, 
This is the ane it stealt the com, 
This is the ane it ran awa', 
This is the ane it tauP a'. 
An peerie weerie cranie doshie, 
Steed at the back o' the door, suppit's 
Milk an breed (,bread), an paid for a'." 

(A. Taterson, fisherman, Macduff.) 

( /■)--" This is the man it brack the bam, 
This is the man it stealt the com, 
This is the man it ran awa', 
This is the man it tellt a', 
Peer little cranie wanie, 
It fell ower the dyke, 
An brack its neck, 
An paid for a'." (Mr. Moir, Keith.) 

(g) — " This is the man it broke the bam. 
This is the man it sta' the corn. 
This is the man it ran awa', 
This is the man it taul' a', 
Peerie weeickie steed ahin' the bam door. 
An hid t' pay for a'." (Buckie.) 

(A) — f' Brack the bam, 
Steel the com, 
Rin awa' 
Tell a', 
Little cranie pays for a'." 

{i) — " Brack the bam. 
Steel the corn, 
Rin awa', 
Tell a', 
Little cranie pays a'." (Mrs. Scott, Aberdour.) 

(J) — " Brack the bam, 
Steel the com, 
Rin awa', 
Taul' a'. 

Peer little cranie wiz forct t' bide, 
An pay for a'." (Mrs. Eraser, New Byth.) 

(/!;)_« Brak the barn, 
Steal the com, 
Loup the dyke, 
Rin awa'. 
Peer cranie wanie pays for them a*." 

(Mrs. Duguid, Kincardineshire.) 

140 children's amusements. 

(I) — " Brack the barn, 
Steal the corn, 
Rin awa', 

Little moosie ran in o' a hole i' the wa\" 
Some touch only the fingers as the following formula shows : — 
(m) — " Brack the barn, 
Stehl the com, 
Rin awa', 
Cranie wanie. 
Pays for a'." 
Holland has several formulse on the fingers.* 

Compare with this amusement the Spanish one of El Huevo, f the 
Portuguese one Nomes dos ded,i and the Sicilian one of Chistu havi 
fami. § 

Compare also Foi^mulettes des Doigts. || 

2. — " This Little Piggie." 

The following is applied to either the fingers or toes: — 
" This little piggie went t' the market, 
This one stayed at home, 
This one got some supper, 
This one got none, 
This one cried * Weeick, weeick, weeick.' " ^ 

3. — "John Prott and his Man." 
In this amusement the mother or nurse opens the child's hand, 
and holds it in her own, and makes as if counting money into the 
child's hand, repeating the words. When the last line is reached 
the hand is closed, and at times some little thing put into it : — 
(a) — " John Prott an's man 

T' the market they ran, 
They bocht, they saul', 
Doon the money they taul'." (Mrs. Scott, Aberdour.) 

* Nederlandsche Baker-en Kinderrijmen, verzameld en meegedeeld door Dr. 
J. van Vloten, pp. 10-12, and p. 167 for additional references. 

f Biblioteca de las Tradiciones pojmlares Espanolas, vol. ii. pp. 126, 127. 
See also vol. iv. pp. 156, 157. 

J Jog OS e Rimas Infantis, by F. Adolpho Coelho, pp, 13, 14. 

§ Giuochi fanciullesclii Siciliani, by Pitre, pp. 55-57. 

II Rimes et Jeux dc VEnfance, by E. Rolland, pp. 21-27. 

\ Nursery Rhynnes and Ntwsery Tales of England, by Halliwell, p. 68. 

children's amusements. 



(&)— " John Prott an's man 

Doon the gate they ran, 
They bocht, they saul', 
The money they doon taul', 
Till they came till a groat." 

(c) — " John Prott an's man 

Doon the gate they cam*, 
They bocht, they saul', 
Mony a penny doon taul'. 
Till they cam' till a groat." 

(d) — " John Prott an's man 

Doon the gate they cam'. 
They bocht, they saul', 
Doon the money they taul'. 
Till they cam' till a plack. 

* Steek ye yir nivv on that.' " 

(e) — " John Prott an his man 
Tae the market they ran, 
They bocht, they saul', 
A' the money doon taul', 
Till they cam' till a plack. 

* Steek ye yir nivv on that.' " 

(/)— " John Prott an's man 

T' the market they ran, 
They bocht, they saul', 
Mony a penny doon taul'. 
Till 't cam' till a plack. 
John Prott said till's man, 

* Steek ye yir nivv upon that. 

(Mrs. Nicol, Tyrie.) 

(Mrs. Walker, Aberdeen.) 




(5') — " Jolin Prott an's man 

T' the market they ran, 
They bocht, they saul'. 
They got money untaul'. 
• Gehn ye be an honest man, 
Content yirsel wi' that,' says John.' 

(/<,) — « John Prott an his man 
Doon the gate they cam', 
They bocht, they saul'. 
Paid the money doon taul'. 
' Gehn ye be an honest man, 
Haud faht I pit in your han'.' " 


142 children's amusements. 

(i) — *' John Prott an' his man 
T' the market they ran, 
They bocht, they saul', 
Aye till they cam' till a plack. 

* John Prott, if ye be an honest man. 

Keep ye that till I come back.' " (Mrs. Forbes, Banff.) 

Ci)— " Jolin Prott an's man 

T' the market they ran, 
They bocht, they saul'. 
They money doon taul'. 

* An hey ' quo' Prott, ' An how ' quo' Prott, 

* Gehn ye be an honest man. 

Keep faht ye've got.' " (Mrs. Gardiner, Banff.) 

The Spanish game of El porij pon * has some resemblance to this one. 

4.—" Clap Handies." 

In this amusement the nurse or mother takes the infant's hands, 
and, clapjjing them, repeats the following pretty words : — 

" Clap, clap handies, 
Mamie's wee, wee ain, 
Clap, clap handies, 
Dadie's comin hame, 
Hame till his wee bonnie wee bit ladie ; 
Clap, clap handies. 
My wee, wee ain." (Miss Watson, Fraserburgh.) 

5. — '^ Catch a Wee Moose." 

Take the child's hand, open it, and, with the forefinger, trace on its 
palm as it were circles, repeating the words : — 

" Roon aboot, roon aboot. 
Catch a wee moose." 

Then slide the forefinger along the arm, saying: — 
" Up a bit, up a bit." 

At the arm-top a sudden jerk is made with the finger below the arm- 
pit, with the words : — 

" In a wee hoose." (Mrs. Mirrlees, Kenton, Dumbartonshire.) 

♦ Bihlioteca de las Tradiciones populares Espanolas, vol. ii. p. 122. Com- 
pare 7, pp. 35, 36, Rimes et Jeux de VEnfance. 

children's amusements. 143 

6. — " The Corbie's Hole." 

In this gain(5 the player joins his thumb and forefinger together in 
such a way as to leave an opening, closing the other fingers on the 
palm of the hand. He then, unseen, introduces the thumb of the 
other hand between the closed fingers, and repeats the words to the 
child on whom the game is to be played : — 

" Pit yir finger in o' the corbie's hole, 
Th' corbie's nae at hame, 
Th' corbie's at th' back o' the bam 
Pyckin an aul' horse bane." 

Variant of the last two lines — 

" Th' corbie sits on the corbie stane, 
An is t' a' unseen." 

As soon as the child's finger is introduced, the hidden thumb closes 
upon it, and holds it fast, whilst the captor cries out : — 

" Th' corbie's at hame, 
Th' corbie's at hame." 


1. " FiTTIEKINS." 

In this amusement the nurse or mother takes hold of the child's 
feet, and imitates the motion of walking, at the same time repeating 
the words : — 

" * Fittiekins, fittiekins, 
Fan will ye gyang ? ' 
' Fin the nicht turns short, 
An the day turns lang, 
An than my fittiekins seen will gyang.' " * 

(Mrs. Forbes, Portsoy.) 

2.—** Shoe a Horse." 
To please the child when the shoes are being put on, the following 
formula in various forms is repeated, and the action of the smith in 
shoeing a horse is imitated as closely as possible : f — 

* Popular Rhymes of Scotland, by E. Chambers, p. 17. 

t Popular Rhymes of Scotland, by R. Chambers, p. 18. Compare Nursery 
Rhymes and Nursery Tales of England, by Halliwell, dxxii. p. 102, and pp 
204, 205. 

144 children's amusements. 

(«) — " John Smith, a fellow fine, 

Cam' t' shee a horse o' mine ; 

Shee a horsie, ca a nailie, 

Hit a horsie on the tailie.' (Auchterless.) 

(J) — *' John Smith, a fellow fine. 

Cam' t' shee a horse o' mine ; 

Shee a horse, ca a nail, 

Strick the foalie o' the tail." (Pitsligo.) 

(c) — " John Smith, a fellow fine, 

Cam' t' shee a horse o' mine; 

He sheet a horse, he caed a nail, 

An strack the foalie o' the tail." (Aberdour.) 

(d) — " John Smith, a follow fine, 

Cam' t' shee a horse o' mine ; 

Shee a horse, ca a nail, 

Hit the foalie o' the tail." (Mrs. Nicol, Tyrie.) 

(6') — " Johnnie Smith, a follow fine. 
Cam' t' shoe a horse o' mine; 
Shee a horsie, ca a nail. 
Hit the horsie o' the tail. 
If ye shee 'im, shee 'im weel, 
Hit the horsie o' the heel." (Strichen.) 

(/) — " John Smith, a fellow fine. 

Cam' t' shee a horse o' mine; 

Shee a horse, ca a nail, 

Hit the fillie o' the tail, 

An gar 'im tack the brae." (Portsoy.) 

(^) — " John Smith, a fellow fine, 

Cam' t' shoe a mare o' mine; 
Shoe a horsie, ca a nail, 
Hit the horsie o' the tail. 
" Ca a bittie on the tae, 
T' gar the horsie dim' the brae; 
Ca a bittie on the heel, 
T' gar the horse pace weel." (Pitsligo.) 

(Ji) — " John Smith, a fellow fine. 

Cam' t' shee a horse o' mine ; 

Shoed the horse, and caed the nail, 

Euggit the rumple fae the tail." (Mrs. Walker, Aberdeen.) 

^^i)— I." Johnie Smith, a fellow fine, 
Cam' t' shee a horse o' mine ; 
Shee a horse, ca a nail ; 
Knock a tackit in's tail." (Peterhead.) 



children's amusements. 145 

O) — " Johnnie Smith, a follow fine, 
Cam' t' shea a horse o' mine, 
Shee a horsie, ca a nailie, 
Ca a tacket in's tailie, 
T' gar the horsie dim' the hrae. 
Horsie, are ye weel shod, weel shod, weel shod ? 
Horsie, are ye weel shod ? (Macduff.) 

(A)—" John Smith, a fellow fine. 
Cam' t' shee a horse o' mine, 
Shee a horse, ca a brod. 
Foalie, are ye weel shod, 
Weel shod, weel shod ? " (Rhynie.) 

(0—" John Smith, a fallow fine, 

Cam' t' shee a horse o' mine ; 

Pit a bittie on the tae, 

T' gar the shiltie dim' the brae ; 

Pit a bittie on the heel, 

T' gar the shiltie trot weel." (Kinnethmont.) 

(w)— " John Smith, a fellow fine. 

Came t' shee a horse o' mine ; 

Hand 'im sicker, hand 'im sehr, 

Hand 'im by the grey hair ; 

Ca a tacket in's tae, 

T' gar the horsie dim* the brae ; 

Ca a tacket in's heel, 

T' gar the horsie, trot weel, trot weel." (Mrs. Gardiner.) 

(7t)— " John Smith, a fellow fine. 

Cam' t' shee a horse o' mine ; 

Shee 'im sicker, shee 'im sehr ; 

Hand 'im by the head o' hair ; 

Ca a nail in's tae, 

An that '11 gar dim' the brae ; 

Ca anither in's heel, 

An that 'ill gar 'im trot weel." (Mrs. Pirrie, Pitsligo.) 

(o) — " * John Smith, a fellow fine, 

Can't ye shee this horse o' mine ? ' 
* Yes, indeed, an that I can, 
As good as any man. 
Shee a horsie, ca' a nail, 
Ca a tacket in's tail, 
Ane in's fore fit, an twa in's heel. 
An that's the wye t' shee a horsie wed.' " (Buckie.) 

Vol. 4.— Part 2. l 

146 children's amusements. 

( 2^)"-" ' John Smith, a fallow fine, 

Can ye shee a horse o' mine ? ' 

* Ay, sir, that I can. 
As well's ony man. 

Here's a hammer, here's nails, 

Here's a cat wi' ten tails, 

Up Jack, doon Tam, 

Blaw the bellows, aul' man.' " (Miss Watson. 

(^q) — " ' Johnie Smith, ma fellow fine, 

Can ye shee this horse o' mine ? ' 

* Weel I wat, an that I can, 
Jist as weel as ony man. 
Ca a bittie on his tae. 
Gars a horsie spur a brae ; 
Ca a bittie on his heel. 

Gars a horse trot richt weel.' " (Elgin.) 

(r) — " * Johnie Smith, a fellow fine, 

Can ye shee this horse o' mine V 
' Yes, indeed, an that I can. 
As weel as ony man ; 
Pit a bit upon the tae, 
T' gar the horsie dim' the brae ; 
Pit a bit upon the heel, 
T' gar the horsie pace weel.' " (Mrs. Adam.) 

(s) — " ' John Smith, a fallow fine. 

Can you shoe a horse o' mine ? ' 

* Yes, indeed, and that I can, 
Just as weel as ony man ; 
Pit a bit upon the tae. 

To gar the powney speel the brae ; 

Pit a bit upon the heel. 

To gar the powney speel weel, 

Ca't on, ca't on, ca't on.' " (Renton, Dumbartonshire.) 

(t) — " ' John Smith, a fellow fine. 

Can ye shoe this horse o' mine ? ' 
' Yes, indeed, and that I can, 
As ^veel as ony man ; 
Pit a bit upo' the tae, 
T' gar the horsie dim' the brae ; 
Pit a bit upo' the sole, 
T' gar the horsie pay the toll ; 
Pit a bit upo' the heel, 
T' gar the horsie pace weel. 
Pace weel, pace weel, pace weel.' " (Kincardineshire.) 

children's amusements. 147 

(w)— " ' John Smith, a fellow fine, 

Can ye shee a horse o' mine ? ' 
' Yes, an that I can, 
As weel as ony man ; 
We'll ca a bit npon the tae 
T' gar the horsie dim' the brae ; 
An we'll pit a bit upo' the heel 
T' gar the horsie trot weel ; 
An we'll pit a bit upo' the sole 
T' gar the horsie hae a foal.' " (Banff.) 

3.—" The Twa Dogies." 

The child is placed on the knee of the mother or nurse, with the 
back to her, and the legs hanging over her knees. She then takes 
a leg in each hand, and moves them across and across each other, 
first to one side and then to another, as if going a journey. Then 
she holds them as licking meal, and, after that, as drinking water. 
On the return journey she crosses them over each other with great 
rapidity. All the time she keeps repeating the words that correspond 
to each action of nmning, licking, and drinking : *— 

(fl) — " There wiz twa dogies geed awa' t' the mill, 
An they took a lick oot o' this wifie's pyock, 
An a lick oot o' the next wifie's pyock, 
An a drinkie oot o' the dam, 
An geed awa' hame, loupie for spang, loupie for spang." (Pitsligo.) 

(5)—" Twa little doggies geed tae the mull, 

They took a lick oot o' this wife's pyock, 

An doon t' the lade, 

An a drink oot o' the dam, 

An geed hame again, hame again, loupie for spang." 

(c) — " Twa dogies geed t' the mill, 

They took a lick oot o' this wife's pyock, 

An a lick oot o' the next wife's pyock. 

An a bite oot o' the bank. 

An a leb oot o' the dam. 

An they geed hame loupie for spang." (Strichen.) 

* Popular Rhymes of Scotland, by R. Chambers, p. 17. Compare **The 
Dog of the Kill," Nursci'y Rhymea and Nursery Talcs of England, by Halliwell, 
p. 205. 

L 2 

148 children's amusements. 

(d) — " Twa dogics geed loupin loupin t' the mill, 
Took a lick oot o' ae wife's bag, 
Took a lick oot o' anither wife's bag, 
An a lab oot o' the mill-dam, 
Stoupie for loupie, hame again even." (Mrs. Chrystie, Elgin.) 

(e) — " Twa littJe dogies ran t' the mill. 
This road an that road, 
They took a lick oot o' this wife's pyock. 
An a lick oot o' that wife's pyock. 
An went hame loupie for spang." (Mrs. Adam.) 

(/) — " Twa dogies geed t' the mill, 

This wye an that wye, this wye an that wye, 

Took a laip oot this wife's pyock, 

An a laip oot that wife's pyock, 

An a laip oot o' the dam, 

An a bite oot o' the bank, 

An cam* hame loupie for spang." (Mrs. Moir.) 

{g) — " Twa dogies geed t' the mill, 

This way an that way, that way an this way, 

They took a lick oot o' this wife's pyock. 

An a lick oot o' that wife's pyock. 

An a laip oot o' the dam. 

An they cam' hame loupie for spang, loupie for spang." 

(Mrs. Walker, Aberdeen.) 
(Ji) — " Twa dogies geed t' the mill, 

Loupie for spang, loupie for spang; 

An they got a lick oot o' this wife's pyock. 

An a lick oot o' that wife's pyock, 

An a slab oot o' the dam. 

An hame they cam' loupie for spang." (Mrs. Scott, Aberdour.) 

(i) — " The dogies geed t' the mill, 

Needle-noddle, needle-noddle, needle-noddle ; 

Tack a lick oot o' this wifie's pyock, 

A lick oot o' that wifie's pyock, 

A bite o' the bank, 

A slab i' the dub, 

A drink o' the lade. 

An hame spangie for spangie, 

Spangie for spangie, spangie for spangie." (Auchterless.) 

The two last lines have a variant : — 

" An hame loupie for spangie, 

Loupie for spang, loupie for spangie." 

children's amusements. 149 

(j) — " Ca the dogies t' the mill, 
Ca the dogies t' the mill, 
They took a lick oot o' the happer, 
An a laib oot o' the dam, 
An they went hame loupie for spang." (Mrs. Adam.) 

(^)_« Tak' a leb oot o' this mull dam, 
An a leb oot o' that mull dam, 
An a lick oot o' this meel pyock, 
An a lick oot o' that meel pyock. 
An she ower him, an he ower her, 
An they baith hame, 
Loupie for spang, loupie for spang." (Pitsligo.) 

(Z) — " Dogies V the mill, dogies t' the mill, 
A lick oot o' this wife's pyock, 
An a lick oot o' that wife's pyock, 
An a leb oot o' the dam,' 
An they geed hame loupie for spang." (Mrs. Pirrie, Pitsligo.) 

(w) — " Dogies t' the mill, dogies t' the mill ; 
A lick oot o' this wife's pyock, 
A lick oot o' that wife's pyock, 
An a leb oot o' the dam, 
An hame they go, hame they go, 
Loupie for loup an spang." (Mrs. Gardiner.) 

(n) — " Pit your doggies to the mull, 

Pit he ower him, pit he ower him, 

Loupie for spang, loupie for spang. 

A lick oot o' this wifie's pyock, 

An a lick oot o' the next wifie's pyock ; 

A lick fae the miller, 

An a lick fae his man ; 

A lickie oot o' the trough, 

An a leb oot o' the dam. 

Haimie gin even, haimie gin (before) even, 

He ower him, an he ower him. 

That's Willie Wandie, 

An that pauls him." (Macduff.) 

The following variant is from a fisherwoman in Rosehearty. It is 
interesting, as the last line no doubt refers to the mode of barter 
carried on by the fisher-folks in the disposal of their fish over the 
country, when each woman returned with her " pyockies foo" : — 

150 children's amusements. 

(^o) — " This is the wye the dogies gang t* the mill, 
This wye an that wye ; 
Took a leb oot o' the lade, 
An anither oot o' the dam, 
An this wiz the wye it they cam' back again, 
Loupie for spang, loupie for spang. 
An their pyokies foo." 

With this may be compared the Dutch formulae given by Van 

4. — " Dance t' yir Daddib." 

This amusement consists in placing the child on the knee in a 
standing posture, and dandling it with an upward and downward 
motion to the rhythm of the words ; f — 

(a)—" Dance t' yir daddie, 
My bonnie laddie, 
An ye '11 get a fishie, 
An a little dishie. 
Dance t' yir daddie, 

My bonnie doo." (Mr. Thurbum, Keith.) 

(b) — " Dance to yir daidie. 
My bonnie baibie, 
Dance to yir daidie. 
My sweet lam', 
An ye sail get a fishie 
In a little dishie, 
An ye'll get a fishie 
When the boatie comes in." 

(Mrs. Duguid, Kincardineshire.) 


" Heat a Womle.'* 

The one that wishes to amuse goes up to the fire with the child, 
holds the forefinger to the fire for a little as if heating it, and repeats 

* Nederlandsche Baker-en Kinder rijmen, p. 3. 

f Nursery Rhymes and Nurstry Tales of England, by Halliwell, ccclxxxiii. 
p. 81, Popular Rhyrnes of Scotland, by R. Chambers, p. 18, 

children's amusements. 151 

the first line, then puts it to the child s belly and makes as if boring 

a hole, repeating the second line at first slowly, then more rapidly : — 

(a) — " Heat a womle, heat a womle, 

Bore a holie, bore, bore, bore." (Keith.) 

Other forms are : — 

(J) — " Heat a womle, heat a womle, 

Bore a holie, bore a holie." (Mrs. Scott, Aberdour.) 

(c) — " Heat a womlie, heat a womlie, 

Bore a holie, bore a holie." (Mrs. Fraser, New Byth.) 
(^) — " Heat a womle, heat a womle, 

Bore a bagie, bore a bagie." (Mrs. Gardiner, Banff.) 


(e) — " Heat a womle, heat a womle, 

Bore a hole in 's belly." 

(The child's name is repeated.) 

(Mrs. Mirrlees, Renton, Dumbarton.) 


1.—" The Lady's Ride.'* 

This is done by placing the child astride on one knee laid over the 
other, and suiting the upward and downward motion of the legs to the 
words, making the motion at first quite gentle, but increasing it by 
degrees in roughness till the child is tossed quite up from the knee ; 
or the child may be placed on the ankle of the one leg resting on the 
knee of the other. The child is kept in its place by the amuser taking 
hold of its hands. The formulse are various : * — 

(a) — " This is the way that the ladies ride, 
Jnmpin sma', jumpin sma' ; 
This is the way that the gentlemen ride, 
Wheep awa', wheep awa' ; 
This is the way that the cadgers ride. 
Creels an a', creels an a'." (Pitsligo.) 

(J) — " This is the wye the lady rides, 
Jumpin sma', jumpin sma'. 
This is the wye the gentleman rides, 
Trot awa', trot awa'. 
Hobble, cadger, creels an a', hobble, cadger, creels an a." 

* Nursery Tales and Nursery Rhymes of England, by Halliwell, cccxlij;. 
p. 74 ; see p. 209, Pojyular Rhymes of Scotland, hj R, Chambers, p, 20, 

162 children's amusements. 

(c) — " This is the way the ladies ride, 
Jumpin sma' jumpin sma' ; 
This is the way the gentlemen ride, 
Trippin awa', trippin awa' ; 
This is the way the cadgers ride, 
Creels an a', creels an a'." (Fochabers.) 

(<i) — " This is the way the ladies rides, 
Jumpin sma*, jumpin sma' ; 
Hobble, cadgers, creels an a' ; 
The boats is in, an the fish is awa', 
Hobble, cadger, creels an a'." (Mrs. Paterson, Pennan.) 

(e) — '* Here's the way the ladies rides, 
Jumpin sma', jumpin sma' ; 
Here's the way the gentlemen rides, 
Boots an a', boots an a' ; 
Here's the way the cadgers rides. 
Creels an a', creels an a' ; 
The boats is up, an all's awa." (Mr. Eraser, New Byth.) 

( /) — " This is the way the ladies ride, 
Jumpin sma', jumpin sma' ; 

The gentlemen they gae bold and braw, bold and braw, 
The cadgers they gae creels an a', creels an a', 
The boatie's in, an the fish is awa'." 

Of) — " This is the wye the ladies rides, 
Jumpin sma', jumpin sma'. 
For fear it they sud fa'. 
This is the wye the gentlemen rides, 
Trottin awa', trottin awa'. 
This is the wye the cadgers rides, 
Creels an a', creels an a' ; 
Up, cadger, creels an a'. 
The boats is in, an the fish is awa'." (Strichen.) 

(A) — " There's the way the ladies rides, 
Jimp an sma', jimp an sma' ; 
There's the way the gentlemen rides, 
Boots an spurs, boots an spurs ; 
There's the way the cadgers rides, 
Creels an a', creels an a'." (Mrs. Nicol, Tyrie.) 

(i) — " Here's the way the ladies rides. 
Jimp an sma', jimp an sma'; 
There's the way the gentlemen rides. 
Brisk an braw, brisk an braw ; 
There's the way the cadgers rides, 
Creels an a', creels an a'." (Mrs. Walker, Aberdeen.) 

children's amusements. 153 

O')— " This is the way the ladies rides, 
Jimp an sma', jimp an sma'; 
This is the way the laird rides, 
Saidle an spurs an a' ; 
This is the way the cadger rides, 
Creels an a', creels an a'." (Mrs. Scott, Aberdour.) 

(k)—" This is the wye it the ladye rides. 
Jimp an sma', jimp an sma' ; 
This is the wye it the gentleman rides, 
Trottin awa', trottin awa' ; 
This is the wye it the fairmer rides, 
Hardy ca, hardy ca ; 
This is the wye it the cadger rides. 
Creels an a', creels an a'." (Mrs. Moir, Fyvie.) 

\ (O — " The ladies, they ride, jimp an sma*, 

[ Jimp an sma', jimp an sma' ; 

^ The gentleman, he rides trottin awa', 

Trottin awa', trottin awa'; 
Bit the cadger, he rides creels an a'. 

Creels an a', creels an a'. 

(w) — " This is the way the ladies ride, 

The ladies ride, the ladies ride. 
This is the way the ladies ride, 
When they go to see the gentlemen. 
This is the way the gentlemen ride. 

The gentlemen ride, the gentlemen ride, 
When they go to see the ladies. 
This is the way the cadger rides, 

The cadger rides, the cadger rides, 
This is the way the cadger rides. 
When he goes to sell his butter and eggs." 

(Renton, Dumbartonshire.) 

With the amusements of riding may be compared the Sicilian 
game of Jfme, Mmey Mme* and its Italian variants, the Spanish one 
of El Borriquito, f the Portuguese one of Cavalgar, J the French one 
of A Dada,^ and the Dutch games of riding, given by Van 

* CriuocJd fanciuUesoJd Siciliani, pp. 51-55. 

f Bihlioteca de las Tradiciones Espanolas, t. ii. p. 120. 

X Jogos e Rimas infantis, by F. Adolpho Coelho, pp. 7, 8. 

§ Rimes et Jeux de VEnfance, by E. Holland, p. 27, 4 (a). 

II Nederlandsche Baher-en Kinderrijmcn, pp. 12-16, and pp. 167, 168. 

154 children's amusements. 

2. — " Hobble Cadger." 

This game consists in the mother or nurse, or whoever wishes to 
amuse, placing the child on the knee, and then lifting the legs in 
imitation of rough-riding, repeating the words : — 

" Hobble, cadger, creels an a', 
The boats is in, an the fish is awa' ; 
Hobble, cadger, creels an a', creels an a'." 

This is continued to the great delight of the child as long as the 
amuser has strength. 

3.—*' Ride Awa'." 
This amusement may be made for the child by the mother or nurse 
dandling the child on her knee in imitation of riding, or, if the child 
is old enough, it receives a staff or piece of stick, which it puts between 
its legs, and then moves about as if riding, and repeats the words 
itself : * — 

(«)— " * Ride awa', ride awa', 
Ride awa' t' Aiberdeen, 
An buy fite breed ;' 
Bit lang or he cam' back again 
The cyarlin wiz deed. 
He up wi's club, an said, 
* Rise ye up, cyarlin', 
An eat fite breed.' " (Mrs. Moir, Kinnethmont.) 

(J) — « i Ride awa' t' Aiberdeen 
T' buy fite breed; ' 
Bit lang or he cam' back again 
The cyarlin wiz deed, 
Sae he up wee's club 
An gyah 'ir o' the lug, 
Said, * Rise, rise, aul' cyarlin. 
An eet yir fite breed.' " (Mrs. Moir.) 

♦ Popular Rhymes of Scotland, by R, Chambers, p. 19, Ravista de Espanaf 
vol. cv, pp. 100, 101. 

children's amusements— glossary. 


4.—" Cam' Ye by the Stack ? " 

" Cam' ye by the stack, man? 
Or cam' ye by the stable? 
Saw ye Sandy Suppleman 
Riding on a laidle? 
Ca awa', Sandy, man, 
Can ye buy a saidle? 
Ye've torn a' yir blue claes 
Ridin on a laidle." (Mrs. Adams.) 

5. — '' The Catib Kade t' Paisley." 

" The catie rade t' Paisley, the catie rade to Paisley, 
Upon a harrow tyne. 

It wiz on a weeny Wednesday, it wiz on a weeny Wednesday; 
I mynt aye sin syne." * (Mrs. Gardiner, Banff.) 

Walter Gregor. 


A\ all 

Blaw, blow 

Ae, one 

Bocht, bought 

Again, before 

Brack, broke 

Ain, own 

Brae, a slope 

An, and 

Braid, broad 

Ane, one 

Breed, bread 

Anither, another 

Brod, a nail 

An^s, and his 

Br 00, brow 

Aul\ old 

Brooie, little brow 

Awa\ away 

Brook, broke 

Bagie, little belly 

Ca, drive 

Baith, both 

Caed, drove 

Bane, bone 

Cam\ came 

Bihlie, having mucus 

at the nose, 

Claes, clothes 

dirty, untidy about the face 

Clim\ climb 

Bit, but 

Comin, coming 

Bittie, a small piece 

Corbie, raven 

* Popular Mhymes of Scotland, by R. Chambers, p. 19, 


children's amusements—glossary. 

Craniej cranie doshie, ,cranie dot, 

Hand, hold 

cranie dottie^ cranie waniej the 

iJeeZze, little heel 

little finger 

Hid, had 

Croon f crown 

Hinch, thigh 

Cyarlin, ugly old woman 

Hinchie, little thigh 

Deedf dead 

^oose, house 

Doo, dove 

e/ii's^, just 

Dooickie, small dove 

Zai, lap 

Doon, down 

Zac?e, mill-race 

DyJce, a wall 

Ladie, little lad or boy 

Ee, eye 

Laip, lap 

Eeniej little eye 

Zam', lamb 

Even^ evening 

Lang, long 

Fae, from 

Ze5, lap 

Faht, what 

Xow^, jump 

i^aw, when 

Ma, my 

Fillie, a young horse 

iltfaw, servant 

Fin, when 

Meel, meal 

FzY, foot 

Mony, many 

JF'eYe, white 

ilifoo, mouth 

Fite breed, wheaten bread 

i/oo/6, little mouth 

Fittiekin, a very little foot 

ifwZ/, mill 

Foo, full 

Mynt, remembered 

Oae, go 

Nae, not 

G^ar, force 

Naething, nothing 

Gate, road 

Nappy, a little hillock 

Ganger, excise-officer 

Needle-noddle, a word expressive 

Geed, went 

of the steady motion of the 

6^dAw, if 


6^m, before 

Nivv, hand 

Gyang, go 

Niz, nose 

Nozie, little nose 

Haimie, home 

ITame, home 

0', of 

ZTan', hand 

Ony, any 

Happer, hopper 

Ow;er, over 

children's amusements — GLOSSARY. 


Pauls, puzzles 
Fee?', poor 
Feerte, little 
Fit, put 
Fowney, pony 
Fyckin, picking 
Fyockj bag 

Quo, quoth, said 

Baide, rode 

Htcht, right 

Bin, rinie, rinickie, run 

JRoad, way, manner 

/?oow aioM^, round about 

Jtuggit, pulled. 

Bumj^le, back-bone 

Saidle, saddle 

SauV, sold 

Seen, soon 

Sehr, very 

Sharpy, sharp, a diminutive form 

/S^ee, shoe 

Sheet, shoed 

Shiltie, pony 

Shoother, shoulder 

Sicker, firm 

/Sm, since 

>S^a^, lap 

^7wa', small 

Sneckie, small latch 

^2>ec/, mount, climb 

Sta, stole 

^«ac^-, the fuel or peat stored for 

the year 
Stealt, stole 

Steed, stood 
Steek, close, shut 
Stehl, steal 
Strack, struck 
StricJc, strike 
Sud, should 
Syne, then 

Tack, take 

Tacket, a short, broad-headed nail, 
commonly used for driving 
into the soles of boots or shoes 

Tae, toe 

Tae, to 

Tailie, little tail 

TauV, told, paid 

Telt, told 

7'Aa7i, then, at that time 

Tyne, prong 

UntauV, untold, not to be counted 

Wa\ wall 
Wat, know 
Wee, little 
TFee^, well 
TFeew^^, windy 
Wheep, whip 
Weerie, small 
TFi', with 
TF?>, was 
Womle, auger 
TT?/^, way, manner 
PFywze, little belly 

Yirsel, yourself 
Yir, your 



AM glad to see that the subject of the Classification of 

Folk-lore is not to be allowed to drop. It is one in 

which, as a collector myself, I cannot but be deeply 

interested ; and a little fearful withal, lest, among so 

many *' great scholars," the needs of the humble fraternity of 

collectors should be somewhat overlooked. 

I see with pleasure that Mr. J. S. Stuart- Glennie perceives with 
me that the word Folk-lore has lately been very inconveniently made 
to do double duty : to signify both a science and a subject of scientific 
study. But I must join issue with him when he applies the word to 
the science and not to the subject, and takes Folk-lore to be the 
learning of the cultured about the folk, and not the learning of the 
folk themselves. He says that the folk have no learning properly so- 
called, that they do not learrij but imbibe knowledge ; apparently 
restricting the term learning to lessons given of set purpose by a 
teacher and consciously acquired by the pupil. But this is surely an 
entirely arbitrary and unauthorised use of the word learning. One 
may learn insensibly, learn from experience, learn by example, and 
So forth. We must not begin by wresting the English language 
to suit our theories. Moreover, supposing Mr. Stuart-Glennie to 
be right in his restricted use of the words learn and learning, yet he 
is mistaken in saying that the folk have no learning of the kind he 
means. People taught their children what they knew themselves 
long before books and national schools were invented. Magic rites, 
songs, tunes, dances, plays, are transmitted from generation to gene- 
ration by direct oral teaching of the young to bear their part in the 
time-honoured practices or ceremonies. Every peasant-mother who 
teaches her child (as some English mothers do even now) to say, — 

" Matthew, Mark, Luke, and John, 
Bless the bed that I lie on," etc. 


instructs it in the simple learning of the folk. In the very number of 
the Journal which contains Mr. Stuart- Glennie's paper we have Mr. 
C. Staniland Wake arguing (p. 65) that the great majority of Folk- 
tales were composed for educational purposes by sages who knew the 
power of '* truth embodied in a tale." And, again, at p. 96, we find 
the reviewer of the Eev. J. H. Knowles's Dictionary of Kashmiri 
Proverbs saying that the missionary '' applied to the people [= folk] 
to teach him their lore^^ What did he learn from them? Their 
lore ; the Folk-lore of Cashmere. It did not become the Folk-lore of 
Cashmere after he'^had learnt it, or because he had learnt it. 

Curiously enough, other words compounded with folk are not sub- 
ject to the same ambiguity of meaning. No one doubts that Folk- 
tales, Folk-songs, Folk-wit, Folk-medicine, Folk-custom, and the 
like, are the tales, songs, wit, medicine, and customs, of and belonging 
to the folk, not such as are made by others about them ; and, as a 
master of fact. Folk-lore /ms, till recently, been used in a similar and 
corresponding sense. I do not think the present confusion could ever 
have arisen if the English language had possessed or preserved the 
idiom by which one of two nouns conjoined is put in the possessive 
case.* Nobody supposes that a volkslied or a volksmcihrchen is a 
song or a tale about the people ; it is plain from the construction that 
it is a song or a tale o/the people themselves. 

It is somewhat startling to a collector of Folk-lore to be told that 
what he has toiled to collect is not itself Folk-lore, though his know- 
ledge of it is. He is tempted to ask, " What then have I been col- 
lecting ?" " Folk-lore " is surely the only possible answer. 

Mr. Stuart Glennie's proposition, that we can only know what the 
people believe by what they do, or say, or relate, appears incontro- 
vertible, and is worth bearing in mind, especially when one is inclined 
to theorize. Upon it he constructs a symmetrical system of classifica- 
tion in Triads, under the three chief heads of Customs, Sayings, and 

* The Shropshire people do use this idiom as far as place-names are con- 
cerned, and say Montford's Bridge, Norton's Camp, Wenlock's Edge, and so 
forth. In the next county, Hereford Fair becomes Hereford's Fair. 


It is rather an effort to believe that there can be nine kinds of 
customs, so distinct from each other, that an ordinary mortal can 
distinguish between them without constant mistakes ; but to let that 
pass. I believe a collection of Folk-lore might be arranged on this 
system, by dint of thought and pains, but it would be a great deal 
more trouble than the fourfold plan. " That vast body of superstition, 
which at all times and in all places has been made the subject of 
observation," would have to be divided between Customs and Sayings. 
In arranging the Folk-lore of some district of the British Isles, for 
instance, the endless statements that *' it is unlucky" to do so-and-so, 
must go into Sayings ; and those of them which follow up the belief 
by practice, (as when little boys, believing it unlucky to take birds' 
eggs into the house, hang strings of them over the doorways of out- 
buildings,) must be placed among Customs. It could be done, I 
repeat, but it would be difficult, particularly in the case of Folk- 
medicine, put into the shape of Medical Recipes, and I doubt whether 
the result would be satisfactory. Imagine, for examj)le, Turner's 
AS'amoa,with all the islanders' ideas and beliefs about their gods, placed 
in the category of Sayings ! (The stoines about them, of course, would 
be entered in the third group.) 

The truth is, it seems to me, that this division rests on a forced and 
unnatural — or, at least, an unusual — interpretation of the word 
Sayings. It is made to include everything to which the phrase On dit 
could be prefixed. Whereas, to an ordinary mind, a saying implies a 
form of words ; an idea expressed in certain prescribed words ; a 
formula rather than a thought. And it seems to me that (besides 
the inconvenience to the poor collector of having to begin by learning 
special meanings to common words) it is a practical mistake to 
confound formulated and non-formulated ideas in the same category, 
ThQ forms of Folk-loric ideas deserve attention, as well as the sub- 
stance of them. And to set down Folk-thoughts which are expressed 
in Folk-loric formulas promiscuously with those which may be, and 
are, expressed in the words of the " cultured " collector, seems to me 
a very unscientific confusi9n of two distinct sets of ideas, those wliich 
are definite and crystallized (and frequently fossilized), with those 
which are vague and floating, and consequently variable, though 


sometimes for that very reason living and powerful, because capable 
of clianging from age to age. 

The name of the third group — Folk-poesy, consisting of stories, 
songs, and sagas — is open to very similar objections. First, it would 
take ordinary minds some time to grasp the idea that they should 
place prose-matter under the head of poetry, or *' poesy," a word 
which suggests a motto for a ring rather than anything more im- 
portant. Secondly, to call Folk-tales " poesy," is not only using the 
word in a somewhat unusual sense, but it begs the question of their 
origin and true significance, which is certainly not settled yet, and 
perhaps never will be. Whereas " tradition" describes the contents 
of the division equally well, and yet asserts nothing at out them but 
the one incontrovertible fact that they are traditional. 

Mr. Stuart-Glennie draws, as no one else has done, the needful 
distinction between the classijication of the record of Folk-lore (as 
he aptly calls it), made by the collector, and the classification of the 
results of the investigation to be made by the philosopher. The 
result he looks for is psychological only, viz., the thorough compre- 
hension of Folk-beliefs, Folk-passions, and Folk-traditions. But 
surely he makes a mistake when he states the result he looks for 
first, and then frames the classification of the record upon that found- 
ation, which is rather like giving the verdict first and hearing the 
evidence afterwards.* Had he not done so, but had looked at the 
materials of the record first, and classified them on their own merits, 
surely he must have seen that Folk-lore has more to tell us than he 
supposes. Consider the weighty words of Senor Antonio Machado 
y Alvarez {Journal^ vol. iii. p. 107): " Every branch of knowledge 
that we call scientific has been Folk-loric in its origin;" words which, 
in my poor opinion, give us in a nutshell both the reason of the value 
of the study, and the true test of what is and what is not within its 

* Shropshire and Cheshire folk would say he had " ploughed the adlants afore 
the butts" ; that is, the licadlancU, or spaces left for the plough to turn at the end 
of the field, before the long furrows : equivalent to *' putting the cart before the 
horse," or beginning a thing at the wrong end. When Miss Jackson first heard 
the proverb used it was applied to the case of a suitor who had made his offer to 
the father before the daughter. 

Vol. 4.— Part 2. m 


range, by showing that Folk-lore is the parent of science, but not of 
art or handicraft. In like manner Mr. Nutt, (though he includes 
handicrafts,) seeks to learn from the study of Folk-lore the beginnings 
of philosophy, of worship, of law, of medical science, of history, of wit 
and humour, of poetry, and romance, of [music and] the drama.* 
A grand classification of results, though impossible, as it seems to me, 
as a classification of records. 

However, the classification of results, and the whole question of the 
harvest which we may hope to reap from the study of Folk-lore, are 
matter for others. What concerns me, is to plead that the principles 
of classification laid down for the collector may be made as clear and 
simple as possible, and may not involve the use of peculiar technical 
words, or of words used in a sense other than the ordinary and 
accepted one. A Folk-lore collector is not likely in the nature of 
things to be a person of very high intellectual ability or much literary 
skill. The chief qualifications of a good collector are observation, 
curiosity, quick sympathy, the gift of winning confidence, the habit of 
simple friendly intercourse with the uneducated folk among whom his 
lot may be cast : things not always to be found combined with student- 
tastes or remarkable mental powers. Now, it requires some considera- 
tion before an average mind can decide whether any given item is a 
religious ceremony or a religious usage, whether another should be 
classed as an omen or an augury, before he can discover that asking 
the rider of a piebald horse to prescribe for the whooping-cough is a 
*' medical recipe " (or can it be a " social usage " ?), and can resolve to 
set down a ghost-story or a local-historical tradition under the head 
of Poesy. Whereas any one knows what a proverb is, or a ballad, 
or a game, a narrative, a *' superstition," or a "cure"; things not 
easily defined — some of them — but easily recognisable ; and any 
intelligent person can arrange such items in their proper places 
if the pigeon-holes are prepared to fit ^the matter that is to fill 

* In connection with folk-music the following is not without interest : — " It 
is here observed, as a rather curious fact, that exceptional musical talent is by 
no means confined to the children of better parentage ; the boy of lowest birth 
will often enough be the best musician." — " A Workhouse Farm," Standardy 
10th March, 1886. 


them, and are labelled in a tongue " understanded of the people." It 
seems to be an admitted fact that more collectors are the need of the 
moment, so it would be a great pity if people who could do useful 
work should be scared away by finding themselves confronted by 
technical difficulties at the outset. If the first broad outline of 
classification is made clear and simple, expressed in ordinary English 
words used in their natural sense, study and experience will presently 
show the worker the need for a fuller nomenclature, and he will 
welcome the technical words — life-casket, husk-myth, cumulative tale, 
and so forth — as he becomes acquainted with the ideas or the things 
they have been formed to describe. But otheiivise, I am afraid, the 
would-be neophyte will be inclined to think that the Folk-lorists have 
taken a hint from their Folk-tales, and enchanted a charming prince 
into the guise of a repulsive monster ! 

Charlotte S. Burne. 


By Miss Charlotte S. Burne. 

PROPOS of '' Kentsham Bell " (see " Two Folk-Tales 
from Herefordshire " in Folk-Lore Journal^ vol. ii. p. 20), 
there is a parish called Kinsham in Herefordshire, about 
four miles from Presteign. There is also Kentchurch. 
The Rev. M. G. Watkins, who is now Rector of the latter parish, 
would no doubt readily make inquiries with a view to ascertaining 
whether this Herefordshire story can be localised in either of these 



" The Outlandish Knight." 

From recitation of the same old mivse who told the folk-tales just 
mentioned. 1883. 

" T'was an outlandish knight came from the North land, 
He came on a wooing to me, 
He told me he'd take me unto the North land^ 
And there he would marry me. 

" Go fetch me some of your father's gold, 
And some of your mother's fee, 
And two of the best nags out of the stable, 
Where there stand thirty and three. 

" She fetched him some of her father's gold, 
And some of her mother's fee, 
And two of the best nags out of the stable. 
Where there stood thirty and three. 

" He mounted on his milk-white steed, 
And she on her dappledy grey ; 
They rode till they came unto the salt sea. 
Three hours before it was day. 

" * Get off, get off your dappledy grey. 
And deliver it unto me ; 
For here I have drownded six ladies fair, 
And thou the seventh shalt be. 

" ' Doff off, doff off your silken gown. 
And deliver it unto me ; 
For methinks it doth look too rich and too gay 
To be drownded in the salt sea ' 

" ' If I doff off my silken gown (smock ?) 
You must turn your back to me, 
For methinks it's not fitting that such a nd-Jin 
A naked woman should see.' 

** He turned his back towards her then 
And bitterly she did weep, 
She ketched him holt (hold) by the middle so small, 
And tumbled him into the deep. 

*' * Lie there, lie there, thou falsehearted man, 
Lie there instead of me. 
For since thou has drownded six ladies fair, 
The seventh has drownded thee.' 


" She mounted then the milk-white steed, 
And led the dappled j grey, 
And she rode till she came to her father's house, 
An hour before it was day. 

" The parrot was up in the window so high, 
Seeing how the lady did ride, 
She feared that some rui-fn had led her astray, 
That she tarried .... 

" ' Oh, hold your tongue my pretty par-7*?^/, 
Don't tell your tales of me ; 
Your cage shall be made of the beaten gold, 
Though now it is made of a tree.' " 

Witchcraft and Charms. 

" There was a young man as worked for me when I was living 
in Herefordshire, as always wore a charm from a child. Couldn't 
do without it. When he was a little lad he was sent for a can of 
milk, and he came running, and slopped some of the milk over a 
door-stone in passing, and the woman came out and abused him ; and 
it was always supposed she bewitched him, for lie always seemed to 
pine afterwards. Nothing ailed him, only he didn't grow, nor thrive. 
Never complained, never said he was ill, only couldn't eat, and in the 
night he'd get out of bed and go into the garden and lay him down 
among the potatoes. And then liis father or his mother would go and 
fetch him back, and he never knew where he was, or how he come 
there, and they'd get him back and cover him up in bed again. 

" And there was a man as worked with his father, and he says to 
him one day, he says, ' Tell thee what : if I was thee, I'd take Jack 
over to the Marsh Farm.' * Ay ? ' he says ; ' dost tha think as the 
ond man 'd do him any good ? ' * To be sure,' he says ; * it's plain,' 
he says, *what ails the lad, and doctor's stuff won't do nothing for 

** Well, the father said no more ; but on the Sunday morning he 
got up and dressed himself, and he says, * I think as I'll take Jack 
over to the Marsh Farm to-day.' So they went ; and as soon as ever 
they come in the old fanner says, ' What ! thou'st brought Jack, 


hast thou ? ' (Knowed what they come for, you see, afore ever 
they said a word.) * Well,' he says, * why didstna thou come afore ? 
thou'st like to ha' bin too late. Thou hadst ought to a come afore. 
Howsoever,' he says, ' I'll see what I can do.' So he wrote him a 
charm. I don't know what it was ; but it would very likely be some- 
thing the same as that you've showed me,' [the old toothache charm 
about St. Peter !]. And he fastened it up in a bit of green silk, and 
the boy was to wear it round his neck, just in the centre of his chest, 
and never to part with it. Every time as he changed his clothes he 
was to be sure and keep the charm about him — never to part with it. 
Well, and he got all right and quite hearty after that, only he never 
durst part with the charm. 

" Only once he'd been changing his clothes, and he slipped it off 
somehow. It was in the harvest, and he was leading the waggon. 
His father was pitching at the top end of the field, and all of a sudden 
he see the boy making straight for a bit of a dingle at the bottom, 
and he shouted to him ; but he took no notice — it was like as if he 
was silly. And his father run, and he did but just get to him in 
time, and a good job as he did, else him and the waggon and horses 
and all would a been right over the steep side of the dingle. And 
they couldn't make out whatever ailed the lad ; but they took him 
home, and put him to bed, and when they come to ex- amine him, of 
course they found as he hadn't got the charm on. So they put it on 
him again, and he was all right after. He was grown a young man 
when I knew him ; he worked for me twelve years, but he always 
wore the charm." — (Told, March 25th, 1885, by an old farmer who 
lived for many years in the country between Hereford and Leominster 
to C. S. Burne ) 

Mothering Sunday. 

" A practice prevails pretty generally in Herefordshire (at least 
in the district between Hereford and Malvern) and parts of Mon- 
mouthshire which is plainly due to the same origin [as the Lancashire 

Simnels] * Mothering Sunday ' (as they call it) 

is there, as in Lancashire, Mid-Lent Sunday ; and on that day every- 



body goes to church. The clergyman sees there people who, at other 
times, are often missing, and with them a great influx of strangers, 
outsiders from other villages, married sons or daughters who have 
come to visit the old folks. Such visitors are said to have come 
a 'Mothering,' and they bring with them a * Mothering' cake as a 
present, less or larger, as their means may allow, but always frosted 
over with sugar. 

" Neither is this custom confined to the poor. Families of con- 
dition are wont to observe it, and the squire's wife of the olden 
time (nay even down to times yet fully remembered) would betake 
herself to the kitchen to do what at other times she never con- 
descended to. Mothering-cakes were supposed to be made by the 
givers, and if Madam wished to send one .... the cake was 
warranted of her own make." — (From a little pamphlet on Midlent 
Simnels, recently written by a clergyman at Scarborough for Frances 
Taylor, pastry-cook, of that town ; but without date.) 

Apple-Orchards and St. Peter's Day. 

*' Unless the apples are christened on St. Peter's Day the crop 
will not be good ; and there ought to be a shower of rain when 
the people will go through the orchards, but no one seems to know for 
what purpose exactly." — (Extract from letter, dated 25th September, 
1880, written at Elton, in the north of Herefordshire, about six miles 
from Ludlow in Shropshire, to C. S. Burne.) 


A respectable middle-aged labourer (say 42 or 43) tells me that 
in his boyhood his father was always careful to provide a Christmas 
Yule-log. On Christmas morning he would put a bit saved from last 
year's log on the fire, and lay the new log on the top of it, so that it 
might be kindled from the last year's piece. Before the log was quite 
burnt out he took it off, extinguished it, and put it by to kindle the 
next log from. He lived in Herefordshire, just where the three 
counties of Hereford, Radnor, and Salop meet. — (Told me at Eccles* 
hall, November 1885. C, S. Burne.) 


Franchise of Weobley, Herefordshire. 

" Previous to the Reform Bill of 1832, which I remember, the 
borough of Weobley, Herefordshire, was a pocket one of the Marquis 
of Bath. He has also large estates round Minsterley [Shropshire], 
and his tenants from there used to go to Weobley to vote at elections. 
The only qualification they required was to boil their kettle there the 
evening before, from which they were called * pot-wallopers.' I can 
remember hearing of them drinking about in Stretton [Shropshire] on 
their way back." — (Letter, written 14th May, 1885, to C. S. Burne, 
by a lady at Church- Stretton, Salop, who adds that her memory as 
to these particulars had lately been refreshed and corroborated by 
an old friend.) 


(^Continued from page 63.) 

By the Rev. Dr. Richard Morris. 

SiGALA JAtaka.* 
The Greedy Jackal. 

N days long since past, when Brahmadatta reigned at 
Benares, the Bodhisat was reborn among the jackal- 
kind, and dwelt in a forest on the bank of the river 
Ganges. It came to pass that an old elephant 
died on the shore of the Ganges. A jackal in prowling about 
for food espied this carcass, and thought to himself, " I've got a 
lot of food here." Then he proceeded to fix his teeth in the trunk, 
but 'twas like biting on the pole of a plough. " There's nothing at 
all worth eating here," thought he. Then he tried the tusks, but 

♦ J alalia BooTi, vol. i. No, 148, p. 501, 


'twas like biting on bone. Next he tried the ears, 'twas like biting 
on the end of a winnowing-basket. He then fastened on the flanks, 
'twas like gnawing into a granary. He tiied the feet, but 'twas like 
biting on a mortar. He then seized on the tail, but 'twas like biting 
on a pestle. " There is nothing at all fit to eat here," thought he. 
Getting no toothsome morsels anywhere, he at last set his teeth in 
the hindquarters. " 'Tis like biting on soft cake," thought he. 
" I'v^e got a proper sort of place now in this carcass for eating a 
dainty bit." From that time forth he ate his way into the belly 
of the elephant, devoured the kidneys, the heart and other parts, 
drank the blood when he was thirsty, and lay down stretched at full 
length on his belly at bed-time. 

Then this thought struck him. *' This elephant's carcass, just 
like a home to me, on account of its pleasant quarters, will supply 
me with ample food whenever I am hungry, or wish to eat. What 
business have I now elsewhere ? " So he stayed where he was, living 
in the elephant's inside, and eating, too, its flesh. 

After some time had passed, through exposure to the winds of the 
hot season, and also through the scorching rays of the sun, the carcass 
dried up and shrivelled, so that the passage by which the jackal had 
entered became closed. There was darkness within the belly of the 
elephant, and to the jackal it appeared like an abode in the Lokan- 

As soon as the outside of the body dried up, the flesh also shrivelled 
up, and the blood ceased to flow. The jackal finding no exit got 
alarmed : hither and thither he ran, tapping and groping about in 
search of a way out, but he found himself fixed within the carcass of 
the elephant, just like a mess of meal in a cooking-pot. After some 
days there came a downfall of rain, which gave the carcass a soaking, 
caused it to swell, and to regain its natural shape. Then there 
appeared an opening in the hindquarters, like a little star. When 
the jackal perceived the aperture, he thought, '' Now I am saved.'* 

* The original is " like the Lokantarika-quarters." The Lokantara is the space 
between three spheres (cakkavaZas). The Lokantarika hell is a place of punish- 
ment partly inhabited hj 2fetas, the spirits of the departed, extremely attenuated, 
and resembling a dry leaf. 


Leaving the head of the elephant, he at once bounded oflf in great 
haste, and thrusting his head through the passage of exit made 
his way out. 

By reason of the decomposed state of the carca;^s all the hairs that 
had been washed off by the rain were matted together in the aforesaid 
passage. The jackal was quite bewildered at the sight of the hairless 
body of the elephant, which resembled the trunk of a palm-tree. 
After rushing about for a moment, he stopped, sat down, and took a 
steady look at the carcass, thinking, '' This unpleasant business has 
not been brought about by any other (than myself). Greed's the 
cause and the means. On account of greed I've done all this. From 
this time forth I'll not give way to covetousness. Never again, 
indeed, will I enter the carcass of an elephant." With anxious 
heart he uttered the following gdthd : — 

" Never again, not e'en once more indeed, 
Never again, not here or there forsooth, 
Never again, dead tuskers will I seek, 
Or in them dwell, so scared was I just now." 

And when he had thus spoken he fled from that place, and never 
again dared even to stop and look at that or any other elephant's 
carcass ; and from that time forth he was free from covetousness. 


The Serpent arid the Medicine-man, 

In times very remote, when Brahmadatta reigned at Benares, the 
Bodhisat was reborn in the family of a poison-doctor, and he lived by 
practising as a medicine-man. It happened that a certain person was 
bitten by a serpent. His relatives, without delay, quickly fetched a 
doctor, who said, " I usually extract serpent-poison by the use of 
drugs ; but I'll have that serpent which has bitten the man brought 
here, and I'll e'en make it draw out the poison from the place that has 
been wounded." '' Having caused the serpent to be brought here, 
make it draw out the venom," said they. He had the serpent 

* JdtaTta Book, vol, i. No. 69, p. 310, 


brouglit, and said to it, " Did you bite this person ? " " Yes, I did," 
it replied. " Well, then, with your mouth extract the venom from 
the place that has been bitten." " I can't take back the poison I 
have once left. I'll not extract the venom that I've infixed," replied 
the serpent. Having collected some sticks, the medicine-man made a 
fire, and said, " If you don't mean to extract your venom, enter this 

" I'll even go into the fire, for I am not able to * re-sorb * the poison 
I've left in a wound," said the snake, uttering the following gdthd : — 

" Oh ! shame to ask a thing too hard to do. 
That I to-day, to save my life, should venom draw 
Out from a wound where once I did it leave : 
In such a case I'd rather die than live." 

And when he had thus spoken, he proceeded to enter the fire. 

Then the medicine-man prevented him, and extracted the poison by 
means of drugs and spells, and so made him well. To the serpent he 
gave moral instruction, saying, "From this time forth do injury to no 
one." Then he let it ^o. 

The SuvAw?iAHA??isA JAtaka.* 

The Golden Flamingo and the greedy Brdhman-woman, 

Once upon a time, when Brahmadatta reigned in Benares, the 
Bodhisat was reborn in a certain brahman family. When he was 
grown up they brought him a wife from a family of equal rank to 
his own. Nanda, as she was called, had in the course of time three 
daughters, who, in due course, went and married into other families. 
The Bodhisat, moreover, died, and was reborn as a golden flamingo, 
and there came to him the knowledge and remembrance of his 
previous birth. When he grew up he was covered with golden 
feathers. On seeing the exceeding great loveliness to which he had 
attained, he thought to himself, " I wonder from whence I disap- 
peared, and came here ? " He remembered that it was from the 
" world of men." Again he mentally inquired, " How now do the 
brahman-woman and my daughters get a living ? " Finding that 

* Jataha Book, vol. i. No. 1.B6, p. 474, 


they earned a living with difficulty as the servants of others, he 
thought to himself, " I have on my body golden feathers, which can 
be plucked or rubbed off, so I'll give them a single plume, on the 
proceeds of which both my wife and daughters will be able to live 
comfortably." Then he proceeded to where they lived, and alighted 
on the top of a bamboo. Both the brahman-woman and her daughters 
on seeing the Bodhisat inquired, " From whence have you come here, 
sir ? " *' I am your father," he answered, " who died, and was reborn 
as a golden flamingo. I am come here to see you. Hitherto you 
have performed menial services for others, and have had a hard 
struggle to live, having no means of subsistence. From this time forth 
I'll give you a single plume. Take and sell it, and live comfortably 
on the proceeds." So saying, he gave them one plume, and departed. 
Going there at intervals, in the manner already described, he used to 
give them a single plume, by which means the brahman-women 
became rich and contented. 

After a while the brahman-woman one day said to her daughters, 
" My dears, it is very difficult to understand the intentions of animals. 
Perhaps your father '11 not come here again, but, when he does, let's 
take and strip all his feathers off." They objected, saying, " Our 
father shall not be so shamefully treated." 

But one day, when the golden flamingo returned, the brahman- 
woman, moved by great covetousness, said, "Just come here, husband." 
Seizing him with both hands, she plucked off all his plumes. But all 
those feathers, because they were stripped off by violence, without the 
consent of the Bodhisat, became just like the feathers of a crane. 

The Bodhisat, though he stretched out his wings, was unable to fly 
away. Then the women threw him into a big jar, and gave him food. 
When his feathers grew again they turned out to be quite white. 
He, with his wings restored, flew up, and at once returned to his 
own quarters, and came back no more. 

The Buddha's moral to this story is expressed in the following 

gdthd : — 

" Be content with what's given, seek not to get more, 
O'er greedy the wicked, unsated they are ; 
When the good flamingo was stript of his plume, 
His feathers of gold all their colour did lose." 


Sahjiva Jataka.* 

Once upon a time, when Brahraadatta reigned at Benares, the 
Bodhisat was re-born in a wealthy brahman family. When grown 
lip he studied all sciences in Benares, became a very famous instructor, 
and taught science to five hundred young brahmans. Among these 
was a youth named Safijiva, and him the Bodhisat gave a spell for 
raising the dead. He, indeed, acquired a mantra for raising the dead, 
but did not possess any common sense (to make a proper use of it). 
One day he went along with some companions into the forest to gather 
fuel, and seeing there a dead tiger he said to them — " Oh, I'll raise 
that dead tiger." '' You can't," replied his friends. He said, "Well 
then, I'll do it before your eyes." *' Raise it to life, if you can," they 
answered, at the same time getting up a tree (for safety). 

Safijiva having repeated his spell, struck the dead tiger with a 
potsherd. The tiger started up, and with a bound seized Safijiva by 
the throat and killed him. Then he lay on the ground along with 
Safijiva, and both lay dead exactly on the same spot. 

The young brahmans departed with their wood, and informed their 
teacher of the whole affair. He addressed them as follows: — ''My 
sons, on account of a misdirected exercise (of knowledge), and through 
bestowing honour and respect upon an improper object, this, your 
companion, has come to such a bad end. Then he uttered the follow- 
ing gdthd: — 

" The man who misdirects his skill, 
And honour pays to worthless men, 
Will fall a prey to greedy knaves, 
Like him whom tiger fierce did slay." 

The Aggi JATAKA.f 

The pious Jackal that knew how to count. 

In days gone by, when Brahmadatta reigned at Benares, the 
Bodhisat was re-born as king of the rats, and lived in the forest. 

* Jdtaha Book, vol. iii. No. 150, p. 510. 
t Jataka Book, vol. i. No. 129, p. 461. 


On a time there was a fire in the forest, and a certain jackal, unable 
to escape, remained in a tree up to his neck. The hair all over his 
body was burnt. And, as he stood up to his neck in the tree, the 
short hairs on his head appeared like a tuft of hair (i. e., like the top- 
knot on the shorn head of an ascetic). 

One day, as he was drinking water in a pool, he beheld his shadow, 
and saw the top-knot on his head. Then he thought, *' Now I've got 
the means of getting a living." * While wandering about in the forest 
he saw the rat-cave, and thought, *' I must cajole and eat these rats," 
so he stood not far off (the cave) in the manner already described.! 
It came to pass that the Bodhisat, going on his rounds for food, saw 
him, and deemed him to be *' religious." So he drew near to him, 
and asked, "Who may you be?" The jackal replied, "I am 
Aggika-Bharadvaja." J "Why do you come here?" inquired the 
rat-king. " To take care of you," replied the jackal. " What will you 
do to protect us ?" **I am acquainted," said the jackal, "with ' arith- 
metic'; § so early in the morning, when you start out in search of food, 
and again on your return in the evening, I'll count how many there 
are of you. And thus, by counting you every morning and evening, 
I'll take care of you." 

" Well, then, uncle," said the rat-king, "look after us." " Good ! " 
said he, as he consented. 

When they were leaving the cave he counted "one, two, three," &c., 
and so, also, in the evening, on their return he counted them, taking 
and eating always the one that came last of all. The rest of the 
rats he ate just in the same way as has been already described. || 

But, in this instance, the rat-king, turning back, stood still, and 
said : " 0, Aggika-Bharadvaja, this top-knot of hair has not been 

* i.e. the top-knot on his head would be a source of profit by enabling to 
pretend that he was an ascetic. 

t With his head up and the top-knot visible. 

I One of the seven sages (rishis^. 
§ Literally " thumb counting." 

II This may refer to the description of how the rats were eaten by the jackal 
in the Bilara Jataka. 


placed upon your head because you are virtuously disposed, but in 
order to fill your belly." Then he spake the following gdthd : — 

" For virtue's sake thy skill thou usest not. 
To eat and fill thy paunch thou dost us count ; 
No tails thou'lt leave I fear, O holy sage. 
So get thee hence, methinks thou'st had enough." 

The Sattubhasta Jataka.* 
TJie old Brahman and his Wife. 

In olden times, when Janaka reigned at Benares, the Bodhisat was 
re-born in a brtihman family, and received the name of Senaka 

On reaching years of discretion, he studied all sciences at Takkasila, 
and on his return to Benares he met with the king, who made him 
one of his ministers. He instructed the king in temporal and 
spiritual matters. Being a preacher of pleasant speech he established 
the king in the five moral practices, in almsgiving, observance of the 
fast-days, and the ten modes of virtuous action. Throughout the 
realm it seemed as if the Buddhas had made their appearance at this 
particular time. 

Once a fortnight the king, his viceroys and others, used to assemble 
together, and adorn the service-hall. The Bodhisat in the decorated 
hall used to preach the law with all the grace of a Buddha, and his 
discourse was like that of the Buddhas. 

At that time a certain old brahman going on his rounds for alms 
obtained a thousand kahapanas^ and when he had deposited them 
(for safety) with a certain brahman-friend of his family, he departed for 
the purpose of again seeking alms. But after he had gone the un- 
faithful brahman appropriated and spent the kahdpanas (entrusted to 
his care), and was unable to produce them on the return of the old 
brahman, so he gave him (as compensation) his daughter to wife. 
He received her, and took up his abode in a brahman village not far 
from Benares. It came to pass that his wife, being young and lasci- 

* Jataka Booh, vol. iii. No. 402, p. 34L 


vious, misconducted herself with a certain young brahman. For there 
are of a truth sixteen things which cannot be satisfied. What are 
they .? They are as follows : — 1, the ocean is not satisfied with rivers ; 
2. nor fire with fuel ; 3. nor a king with his (own) kingdom ; 4. nor 
a fool with sin ; 5. nor a woman with sexual intercourse, ornaments, 
and child-bearing ; 6. nor a brahman with spells ; 7. nor a recluse 
with meditation ; 8. nor a sekha with reverence (due to an arahat) ; 
9. nor a contented man with the dhuta observances ; 10. nor an 
energetic man with energy; 11. nor the talker with conversation; 
12. nor a wise man with councils ; 13. nor a faithful (follower of 
Buddha) with serving the sangha (assembly) ; 14. nor a learned man 
with hearing the law ; 15. nor the four assemblies (of Buddha's dis- 
ciples) with seeing the Tathagata. 

So this brahman woman, unsated with sexual intercourse, determined 
to get her old husband out of the house, and to follow her vicious 
inclinations. One day this evil-minded creature lay down (as if 
indisposed). " What's the matter, my dear ? " asked the husband. 
" 0, sir," she replied ; " I can't do the housework, so get me a female 
slave." *' 0, my dear," answered her husband, " I have no means, 
how shall I obtain one for you ? " asked the brahman. " Go in quest 
of alms, so get some money and bring me home a slave," replied the 
wife. " Well, then, wife, provide me with some food for the journey," 
said he. The wife then filled a leather bag with two sorts of meal 
(baked and unbaked), and gave it to him. The brahman, after 
wandering about through divers villages, towns, and cities, obtained 
seven hundred kahdpanas ; then he turned towards his own village, 
knowing that he had got enough money to purchase a female slave. 
On his way home at a certain spot, where there was a good supply of 
water, he untied his bag, ate some of his food, and then without 
fastening up his bag, he went down to the spring to get a drink of 
water. Just at that time a black snake living in the hole of a certain 
tree smelt the savour of the meal, crept into the bag, ate and enjoyed 
the meal, and then lay down (to sleep). 

On his return the brahman tied up his bag wiihout taking any note 
of what was inside it, slilng it across his shoulder, and started off* 


again. As he was going on his way a tree-sprite within the trunk of 
a- tree called out : " O brahman, if you do not return home you your- 
self will die, and if you go home your wife will die." Having thus 
spoken the sprite vanished. 

The brahman, on looking about and seeing nothing, became alarmed 
and frightened to death ; so, weeping and wailing, he reached the 
entrance of Benares. x\t that time it happened to be the fast observed 
on the day of the ne$v moon, the day when the Bodhisat sitting on the 
grand seat of judgment expounded the law, and when the multitude 
flocked together with scented flowers in their hands to hear a dis- 
course on religion. 

Seeing this, the brahman asked where they were all going. " 
brahman," they answered, " to-day the learned Senaka preaches the 
law in the most pleasant manner, and with all the grace of a Buddha. 
Were you not aware of it ? " On hearing this he thought to himself : 
" It is said that the preacher is clever, and I am frightened to death ; 
may be this wise man can rid me of this great sorrow. I must go 
myself and hear this discourse." So he went with them ; and with his 
bag on his shoulder stood trembling not far from the judgment-seat, 
in the outer circle of the assembly, consisting of the king and others 
around the "great being." 

The Bodhisat, as if going to the celestial river, and as if showering 
down an ambrosial rain, delivered a discourse. The delighted multi- 
tude listened and applauded. Wise men indeed have a wide range of 
vision. At that very moment the Bodhisat, opening his eyes, serene 
and clear, and seeing the brahman, thought, — " All this assembly are 
listening to my discourse joyfully and applaudingly, but this brahman, 
afflicted with grief, is the only person giving way to lamentation ; there 
must surely be within him some cause for this sorrow. I will rid him 
of it as easily as if I were removing copper verdigris caused by an 
acid (on a vessel), or a drop of moisture from the leaf of a lotus ; and, 
having made him free from sorrow and glad-hearted, I will expound 
the law to him." Then he addressed him as follows: " O brahman, 
I am called the sage Senaka, and will cause thee to put away thy 
grief. Speak out boldly." While thus talking with him he uttered 
the following gdtha, : — 

Vol. 4.— Part 2. n 


" Perturb'd art thou in mind and thought, 
Distressed thy feelings are with grief ; 
Thine eyes are shedding bitter tears, 
And signs of woe do plainly show. 
What hast thou lost that's dear to thee ? 
Or what desirest thou to have 
That here thou stand' st thus woe-begone ? 
Come, brahman, say, hide not the cause." 

Then the brahman informed the Bodhisat of the cause of his 
sorrow in the words of the following gdihd : — 

" Methought I heard a tree-sprite say, 
* When you reach home your wife shall die ; 

And should you not straightway go home. 

Yet death yourself shall lay full low.' 

On this account I am thus sad. 

With care and sorrow sore bestead. 

O tell me, learned Senaka, 

What means the goblin's fearsome words." 

The Bodhisat on hearing the brahman's speech, as if casting a net 
into the sea, spread out the net of knowledge, thinking to himself — 
*' These beings die from many and various causes. Some die drowned 
in the sea, seized there by monsters of the deep, others fall into the 
Ganges, and are devoured by crocodiles ; some fall from trees, and 
are impaled by stakes, others are wounded by diverse weapons ; some 
take poison, others strangle themselves ; some fall down a precipice, 
others die also either of cold or of various diseases with which they 
are afflicted. Now of which of these many and various causes of 
death will this brahman, not returning home, die, or of what will his 
wife die as soon as he returns home ?" 

With thoughts of this kind in his mind the Bodhisat looked up 
and saw the leather bag slung across the brahman's shoulder, and he 
came to the following conclusions — that a snake enticed by the odour 
of the meal must have crept into the bag which the brahman left 
open when, after his breakfast, he had gone to the spring to get a 
drink of water, and that the brahman on his return, unaware of the 
snake's presence, had fastened up his bag and set out on his home- 
ward journey So, by his knowledge and skill in expedients, the 
Bodhisat foresaw that if the brahman undid his bag at some resting- 


place for the purpose of taking liis evening meal, the snake, as sjon 
as he put his hand into the bag, would bite him, and he would die. 
This would be the cause of his death while on his way home. But 
if he should go straight home the wife would get hold of the bag, 
and, in seeking to learn the contents of it, would thrust her hand into 
it, and then she would be bitten and die, and so the brahman's return 
would be the cause of his wife's death. 

Then it occurred to him that this black snake must be lying in the 
bag unconscious of fear and danger, for the bag striking against the 
broad ribs of the brahman did not give any signs of movement or 
of struggling, nor manifest its being alone in the midst of such an 
assembly. By his knowledge and skill in expedients the Bodhisat, 
as if seeing things with his divine eye, became aware that this black 
snake was fearless and secure. So the Bodhisat, all skilful and 
wise, just like one who had stood and seen the snake enter the bag, 
gave an exact answer to the brahman's question as he uttered the 
following gdthd in the great assembly : — 

" Your question has my thoughts engaged. 
And divers reasons tum'd I o'er ; 
What I shall say the truth will be 
(No falsehood shall my lips defile). 
I think, O brahman, wise and leam'd, 
That in thy bag, which meal contains, 
A snake full fierce and black of hue 
Has entrance gain'd, unknown to thee." 

When he had thus spoken the Bodhisat inquired, " Is there any 
meal in your bag?" ** There is, sir." *' Did you eat meal at break- 
fast-time ? " "I did, sir." " Where did you sit ? " " In a wood, at 
the foot of a tree." " When you had eaten, and went in search of 
water, did you tie up your bag or leave it open ? " " I left it open, 
sir." " When you returned, did you, before tying up your bag, look 
inside it ? " "I tied it up without looking into it, sir." " I beb'eve, 
brahman, at the time you went to get water, that unknown to you a 
snake, enticed by the smell of the meal, crept into your bag. This 
is the reason (of the sprite's words), therefore, put down your bag, 
set it in the midst here, and leave it open ; then, standing a little 



distance off, take a stick and strike tlie bag. When you see a black 

snake expanding its hood and hissing you'll be free from all your 


" Now take a stick, your bag well strike, 
And then an angry snake behold ; 
Your doubts and fears away with quite ! 
Pray ope the bag and see the snake.'* 

The brahman, on hearing the Bodhisat's words, though alarmed and 
terrified, did as he was bidden. The snake, on feeling the blows of 
the stick, came out of the bag and stared with astonishment at the 
assembled multitude. 

After the Bodhisat had explained the meaning of the sprite's 
puzzling words a snake-charmer deprived the reptile of its fangs and 
let it loose in the forest. 

The brahman then drew near to the king, did obeisance to him, 
wished him victory (over his woes), and praised him in the following 
gdthd : 

" Full well 1 know that he who sees 
The wisdom great of Senaka 
Will say indeed — ' Great gain it is 
For Janaka, this noble king.' " 

When he had thus praised the king he took out of his bag seven 
hundred coins wishing to bestow them upon the ]5odhisat, whose 
praises he sang in the following gdthd: — 

" Methinks all things are in thy ken, 
And secrets deep thou dost reveal. 
Accept, I pray, these coins I've here, 
They all are mine, them give I thee ; 
To-day my life you sure have sav'd 
And set my wife from danger free." 

On hearing this, the Bodhisat uttered the following gdthd: — 

" The wise no wages ask nor take 
For verses fine, not rude of speech ; 
To thee, O brahman, give I wealth. 
My gifts accept and hie thee home." 

So having thus spoken the Bodhisat caused a purse to be filled with 
a thousand pieces and to be given to the brahman. " By whom, brah- 


man, were you sent in search of wealth ? " asked the Bodhisat. «* By 
the wife, sir." " Is your wife young or old ? " " Young, learned sir." 
" Well, then, she has misconducted herself with a certain person, and 
in order to be in no fear of your finding out her fault she sent you 
away. If you take home your wealth she will give to her lover the 
money you have so painfully earned : so don't go straight home, but 
outside the village somewhere, at the root of a tree, hide your money, 
and then in the evening return home." 

Having given him this advice he dismissed him. The brahman did 
as he was bidden. On reaching home his wife and her lover were at 
that moment sitting together. The brahman, standing at the door, 
called out — ''Wife ! " She, recognising the sound of his voice, put 
out the light and opened the door. As soon as her husband entered 
she put her paramour outside the door. Not seeing anything in the 
bag, she asked the brahman if he had not received aught while away 
on his round for alms. He told her that he had got a thousand pieces. 
" Where are they ? " she asked. '* I have put them in a certain place, 
and early to-morrow morning I will bring them here : so don't be in 
any anxiety about the matter." 

On hearing this she went out and told her lover, and he set off and 
found all the money just where it had been placed. The next day 
the brahman, finding that his money had gone, went and informed 
the Bodhisat. "Well, brahman, what is it?" "I can't find my 
money, learned sir." "Perhaps you told your wife!" "I did, 
learned sir." When the Bodhisat became aware that the wife's 
paramour knew where the money was he said, " Perhaps you know a 
brahman who is an intimate friend of your wife's family ? " "I do, 
learned sir." 

Then the Bodhisat gave him provisions for seven days, saying, 
" Go ! On the first day invite fourteen brahmans, of whom seven are 
thy wife's friends and seven thine, and entertain them. Begin next 
day to dismiss them, one by one each day ; then, on the seventh day, 
invite two brahmans, of whom one is your wife's friend and another 
yours, and as soon as you are sure of the arrival of your wife's friend 
(i.e., the young lover) let me know." 

The brahman did as he was told, and as soon as the Bodhisat knew 


that the young brahman had come to the feast, he sent off men with 
the old brahman to bring the wife's paramour before him. 

*' Did you," he asked, " take from the root of a certain tree a 
thousand pieces of money belonging to this old brahman ? " 

'' I did not, learned sir," he replied. 

" Do you know how wise I, the learned Senaka am ? " asked the 
Bodhisat. " I'll cause those hahctpanas to be brought here." 

" I did take them, learned sir," said he, in great fright. 

" What have you done with them ? " asked the Bodhisat. 

The thief explained what he had done with them. The Bodhisat 
then inquired of the old brahman whether he wished to keep this 
naughty young woman as his wife, or to take another. The brahman 
expressed a wish to keep her. 

The Bodhisat then sent his men for the brahman's kahdjKtnas and 
for the young wife. To the good husband he restored the money 
taken from that thief of a brahman, and, by order of the king, he 
caused the culprit to be expelled from the city, at the same time 
cautioned the wife (to behave herself better for the future). Upon 
the old brahman he conferred great honours, and made him take up 
his abode very near him.* 


American Indian Folk-tale. — The enclosed extract from The 
American Antiquarian for January, 188G, seems to me a genuine bit 
of folk-lore which may well find a place in the Society's Journal, 

J. J. Foster. 

How THE Whull-e-mooch got fire. — '' The old folks tell us," 
said the old man from whom I had this story, " that very long ago 
the WhuUemooch (dwellers on WhuU, Puget Sound, W. T.) had no 
fire. All their food was eaten raw, their evenings were dull and cheer- 
less — without fire and without light. One day while a number of 
these people were seated on the grass having a meal of raw flesh, a 

* For a later version of tliis story see Thibetan Tales, pp. 144-149, 


pretty bird with a shining tail came and hovered around them. After 
admiring its beautiful plumage, some one said, ' Pretty bird, what do 
you want ? Pretty bird, where do you come from ? ' 'I came,' replied 
the bird, ' from a beautiful country far away, bringing you all the 
blessings of Hieuc (fire). That which you see about my tail is fire. 
I have come to give it to the children of the Whullemooch condi- 
tionally. First, you must, in order to value it, earn it. Again, no 
one who has been guilty of a bad deed or of a mean action need try 
for it. To-day get ready, each of you, some chummuch (pitch pine). 
To-morrow morning I shall be here with you.' When it came next 
morning it said, * Have all of you got some chummuch ? ' * Yes,' 
said all. ' I go,' said the bird, ' and whosoever catches me and puts 
his chummuch on my tail shall obtain a blessing, a something 
whereby to wann himself or herself, cook his food and do many a 
service to himself and to the children of the Whullemooch for ever. 
I go.' It went ; every man and woman, boy and girl of the tribe 
followed helter-skelter, some laughing, some shouting, others in 
their heedless haste fell over rocks into water-holes, got torn and 
scratched by bushes and thorns. Some who lacked perseverance 
turned back and went home, saying anything so beset with trouble 
and danger was not worth the trying for. All of the hunters were 
getting tired and hungry, when one of the men came near the bird 
and tried to catch it, but the bird eluded his grasp, saying, * You can 
never get the prize : you are too selfish. You don't care for any one, 
whether sick or hungry, so long as you are right yourself.' With that 
away flew the bird, and another man took up the chase. Hearing 
what was said to the other, he changed his tactics, saying, * Pretty 
birdie, let me catch you ; I never did anything bad or mean. If 
ever I saw any one hungry or thirsty I gave them silthtun (food and 
drink), or if I could I gave them a skin or a blanket.* ' All you say 
is good, but in one point you fail. You stole your neighbour's wife 
by flattery.' This saying, away went the bird, a number still following. 
Passing a woman nursing a sick old man, she said, ' Pretty bird, I 
cannot follow you ; won't you come to me and give me your hieuc ?* 
' What good have you done,' said the bird, 'that you should get it?' 
' I have done nothing but what was my duty always to do,' replied the 
woman. ' Good woman,' sai(i the bird^ * j^ou are always doing good. 


thinking it only yonr duty. Bring your wood, put it on ray tail and 
take the fire. It is justly yours.' When the wood was laid on the 
bird's tail it blazed up. All the others brought their chummuch and 
got fire from her. From then until now we have never been without 
fire. We took care of it because we found the good of it. So, Nay 
Minnay (my child), that is how the Whullemooch got their fire." 
«Nis Tatuja" (my father), said I, "what became of the bird?" 
" After that it flew away and was never again seen." 

The Morris Dancers at Clifton. — A representation of this ancient 
custom was given at the Victoria Eooms on Saturday afternoon by a 
troupe not of professional dancers but of village rustics, who, living in 
the neighbourhood of Shakespeare's birthplace, where the Morris 
Dance had longer survived than in other parts of the country, were 
familiar with the various steps and figures. Mr. D'Arcy Ferris, who 
has revived this ancient dance and organised the troupe, first gave a 
brief lecture on its origin and antiquity, which, he said, was a purely 
rustic perfonnance danced by rustics, and therefore uncouth and un- 
trained. The troupe, which numbered twelve men, were attired in 
picturesque costume, consisting of low beaver hats, gay with parti- 
coloured bands ; frilled shirts, decorated with rosettes and tied round 
the arms with gay ribbons ; knee breeches, blue stockiugs, and 
boots ; and around each leg just beneath the knee was a garter, from 
which depended ribbons of various hues and small bells, which gave a 
curious jingling effect as the men danced. The ancient piper was 
represented by a fiddler, who seemed well accustomed to the quaint' 
tunes, to the strains of which the dancers footed it right merrily and 
with a marked observance of time. Some of the dances reminded one 
of the simpler figures of a plain set of quadrilles or the country-dance 
of Sir Roger de Coverley, but most of them were characterised by a 
peculiar quaintness, due no doubt to their antiquity. The foreman of 
the dancers announced the name of the dance before commencing. 
There were — '* Shepherds' Hay," " Billy and Nancy," " Princess 
Royal," '' Young Colin," " Devil among the Tailors," '* Old Trunk," 
" Saturday Night," " Constant Billy," « Old Woman tossed up in a 
Blanket," ** Black Joke," " Molly Oxford," " We won't go home till 
morning," &c. Between the dances there were diversions by the 
Tom Fool and the hobby-horse.— JB/Vsfo? Mercury, 8 March, 1886. 


Adder's Tongue. — " Rambling through part of Worcestershire last 
summer, a nice-looking old woman to whom I was talking, evidently a 
labourer's wife, said : ' Yes, we've had twelve children, and they're all 
alive and doing well, thank the Lord and the adder's tongue.' In 
evident good faith, and earnest belief in its efficacy as a char Ji to bring 
luck and prosperity, the old lady proceeded to tell me that her father, 
who lived in Montgomeryshire, was walking one day amongst the lines 
when he noticed an adder gliding round him. He seized it by the 
neck with one hand, and with the other, armed with a leaf, plucked 
out its tongue. This tongue he kept until his daughter married, 
when he gave it her. She passed it on to her husband, and, in suc- 
cession, each member of their family possessed it for a time ; but no 
one knew who had it, and avoided asking. Whenever the tongue 
withered it had merely to be wrapped in a fresh cabbage, or other 
leaf, to revive and keep it sweet and right. She advised me strongly 
to get a tongue, said it was easily done, by holding a leaf in the hand 
when plucking it out, and would surely bring me the comfort and 
well-being which it had brought to her. Asked if I could not have 
hers, she said, rather solemnly, ' No ; it must not be found out where 
it was.' " — K. K. C. J. H. Middletox. 


Kalilah and Dimnah ; or, The Fables of Bidpai : being an account of 

their Literary History, with an English Translation of the later 

Syriac Version of the same. By I. G. N. Keith Falconer, M.A. 

(Cambridge University Press.) 

This is a welcome book to the student of folk-lore, as supplying 

him with the best and most complete version in existence of one of 

the most famous and oldest collections of folk-stories known. It is, 

indeed, to be regretted that Mr. Falconer should not rather have 

chosen for translation the Arabic text of Kalilah and Dimnah, both 

more complete and more satisfactory in form and style than the 

Syriac version of which the book under notice is an English render- 


ing; but, as he explains in his preface that his translation is intended 
to serve as a text-book to the Syriac student, we have, we suppose, no 
right to quarrel with his choice. 

The first thing that strikes a reader of this curious book is the 
inaptness, from the European point of view, of the title, " The Fables 
of Bidpai," to what is practically a collection of moral discourses, 
interspersed with illustrative anecdotes, parables and apologues, 
strung together upon the slenderest possible thread of narrative 
and bearing scant resemblance to what is commonly known in 
Europe as a fable, as will at once appear from a comparison with 
the fables of -^sop, Lafontaine, Yriarte, or even Kriloff. The 
European conception of the fable is essentially ^sopic, and (as 
Mr. Falconer points out in his Introduction) in fables of this form 
animals are allowed to act as animals, whilst Indian fables make 
them act as men in form of animals. Indeed, the unknown author of 
the Indian original of Kalilah and Dimnah, whether Bidpai (Pilpay) 
or another, does not trouble himself to conceal the purely human 
character of the (nominally) beast-personages of which he makes use 
for the purpose of enouncing and illustrating the moral instances 
and rules of life and faith he desires to impress upon his readers, 
and the artistic worth of his production suffers enormously by his 
carelessness in this respect. What, indeed (to cite only one or two 
instances), can be more destructive to the illusion of a reader, whose 
object is not exclusively scientific or scholastic, than to find, in a 
story where all the speakers are beasts, jackals (see Kalilah and 
Dimnah\ hares, owls, and crows (see the story of the Owls and 
Crows) constantly spoken of as men and addressed as "0 man," 
" madman," " insolent man," &c., &c., and to find them all, as a 
rule, expressing and referring to the sentiments, circumstances, and 
motives of action peculiar not to the bestial but the human part of 
the Creation ? It may, indeed, be surmised, that for some, at least, 
of these incongruities the translator himself is responsible, as he has 
in other instances of the same character substituted (as he would, 
perhaps, have done well to do throughout) the word " one " (<9.^., 
" ill-starred one," &c.) for the unsatisfactory *'man." We have 
not the Syriac text to refer to, but in Arabic the original of the 
yocfitive examples cited jibove would stand thus; ya hadha^ lit, 


this — i.e.y fellow, O such an one, ya majnun, mad (one, adjec- 
tive used as noun), ya mdrid, insolent (one), &c.; and it may not 
unfairly be conjectured that Mr. Falconer has, with the lack of 
literary tact so common in Orientalists, substituted or added the 
incongruous word ** man " of his own motion. It may be that in this 
we unjustly suspect him ; but an extensive experience of the " tricks 
and manners " of translators from Oriental languages affords no 
little warrant for the suspicion. However, whether he be or be not 
to blame for some of the discrepancies above referred to, they are too 
numerous and too salient to be thus accounted for as a whole, and 
there is abundant internal evidence that the great majority of them 
are attributable to the author of the original work. 

Notwithstanding this general divergence from the European form, 
the iEsopic fable is not altogether absent from the collection. A 
certain number of regular specimens are be found scattered through- 
out the text, especially in the first and chief story, that from which 
the book takes its name, and which contains a number of short 
fables {e.g.^ The Fox and the Tubret, p. 14, The Raven and the 
Jackal, p. 23, The Crabs and the Heron, p. 24, The Lion and the 
Hare, p. 26, The Three Fishes, p. 31, The Flea and the Louse, p. 34, 
The Lion and the Camel, p. 43, The Sandpipers and the Sea, p. 48, 
The Apes and the Glowworm, p. 55), all formed after the pure 
iEsopic model, and introduced in illustration and support of various 
arguments and moral instances advanced by the beast-personages of 
the story ; and occasional examples {e.g.^ The Wolf and the Bow, 
p. 117), are to be found in the other stories of the collection. The 
Stury of the Ringdove (p. 109) may also be noted in this connection 
for its partial correspondence with ^Esop's fable of The Lion and the 
Mouse, and also for its general likeness to the stories of the Birds and 
Beasts and the Son of Adam, The Waterfowl and the Tortoise, and 
The Fox and the Crow, in the Arabian Nights* See, also, p. xxv. 
of the Introduction for a curious version, ending with a characteristic 
Indian trait, of the story of the mice's proposal to bell the cat. 

A feature of special interest to the students of folk-lore is the 
occurrence of stories that are either closely related to or evidently 
the original forms of well-known European folk-tales. The follow- 
♦ Cf, the Villon Society's edition, iii, 1, 16, 37, 


ing, for instance (p. 149), contains the germs of several features of 
Grimm's well-known story, '' Von dem Fischer un syner Fru." 

A certain ascetic was very God-fearing, and walked according 
to all His commandments. And everything he asked of God, 
He granted him. As he was walking one day along the bank of a 
river, he saw a young hawk flying upwards with a mouse hanging 
from his foot. And the mouse fell from it to the ground. The 
ascetic took it up and wrapped it in a leaf and took it home, and 
asked God to change it and make it into a girl. And God heard the 
voice of his supplication, and changed His creature and made it into a 
female of beautiful appearance and handsome figure. Then said the 
ascetic to his wife : This is my daughter and the beloved of my soul ; 
so care for her to the best of your ability, and everything that you do 
for your own daughter, do for this one." The woman did as her 
partner bade her. When the girl was grown up and came to years, 
the ascetic said : " I must deal kindly with this my daughter, accord- 
ing as generous fathers do with their children ; so I will seek her a 
suitable partner, who will supply her deficiencies, protect her purity, 
and preserve her good character from the pollution of evil suspicions. 
For it has been said, and well said — ' Good fortune has he who does 
not leave his daughter in the house when the manner of women comes 
upon her, but gives her to a husband.' " Then he said to his daughter : 
" You have reached the age for marrying, for you ought to have a 
husband. Tell me now, whom do you wish to be your husband ? " 
She replied : " I desire a mighty man, whom defeat shall never over- 
take, intelligent and unaffected by foolishness, a man who will not 
succumb to an enemy, a lamp the oil of whose brightness is never 
lacking." He said to her : " Perhaps you desire the sun ? " She 
answered, " Yes." Whereupon the ascetic drew near to the sun , 
saying : " This my daughter is of beautiful appearance, and a hand- 
some figure. Let her be your wife." The sun answered : " 1 will 
direct you to some one who is mightier than I, namely, one who can 
hide my light by means of his thunders. (?)" He said to him : " Who 
is he ? " The sun answered : " He is the cloud." So the ascetic drew 
near to the cloud and said to him according to what he had said to 
the sun. The cloud answered : " There is one who is mightier than 
I, namely, he who can carry me whithersoever he pleases." He said 


to liim : " Who is he ? " He answered : " The wind." So he drew 
near to the wind, and said to him as he had said to the former ones. 
But the wind answered ; " The mountain is mightier than I, for he can 
hide me by means of his loftiness." So he drew near to the mountain 
and said to him in like manner. The mountain answered : " The 
mouse is mightier than I, for he has dug a hole and a burrow in me, 
and I cannot make him depart from me." So the ascetic went to the 
mouse and said to him what he had said to the rest. [The mouse 
answered] : " It is impossible that this girl should be my wife, 
because she is taller and greater in stature than I, she could not go 
into my burrow with me." And the ascetic told his daughter his 
whole story. Then she begged her father to ask God to make her 
into a mouse, so that she might be able to marry the mouse. And 
the ascetic asked of God, and He changed his daughter to her first 

The two following anecdotes are also worth citing as the respective 
originals of (1) two well-known stories (Alnaschar and Tlie Fakir and 
his pot of butter*) of the Arabian Nights, and (2) of the wide-spread 
legend of Beddgelert. 

An ascetic derived his nourishment from a king, that is, the 
governor of a town, every day so much oil ( 1 ghee, i.e., clarified 
butter, Arab, semen) and so much honey. And whatever he had 
remaining he used to pour into an earthenware vessel, which he 
hung on a peg above the bedstead on which he slept. One 
day while sleeping on the bedstead, with the earthenware vessel full 
of oil and honey, he began to say within himself : " If I sold this 
honey and oil, I might sell it for a dinar, and with the dinar I might 
buy ten she-goats, and after five months they would have young, and 
after a lapse of five years these would have young, and their number 
would become very large, and I should buy two yoke of oxen and a 
cow, and I should sow my fields, and reap much corn, and amass 
much oil ; and I should buy a certain number of servants and maid- 
servants; and when I had taken to myself a wife of beautiful appear- 
ance, and she had borne me a handsome son, I should instruct him, 
and he would be secretary to the king." Now in his hand was a staff, 
and while he was saying these things he kept brandishing the staff 
* See Villon Society's edition, i. 303 ; viii. 193. 


with his hand, and struck the earthenware vessel with it, and broke 
it, whereupon the oil and honey ran down on his head as he slept. So 
all his plans came to nought, and he was confounded. 

In a country called Jurjan was an ascetic who had a wife of 
beautiful appearance, and whom he loved very much. She bore him 
a son of beautiful appearance and comely form. Now this son was 
born to them after they had despaired of offspring for a long time, 
and he remained continually with him. One day his wife said to 
him : " I am going upon one of your affairs, so keep a watch over the 
boy." But, when the woman had gone, a messenger from one of the 
chiefs of the town came for him, and could not wait. So he left the 
boy, and departed. Now they had in the house a weasel who used to 
help them in all their affairs, and did not leave a single mouse in the 
house without killing him. And he left him with the boy, and went 
with the messenger. Whereupon there came forth a powerful snake, 
and sought to kill the boy. And the weasel fought with the snake 
until he killed him, and bit him into several pieces ; and the body of 
the weasel was stained with the snake's blood. When the ascetic 
returned from the man who had sent for him, and saw the weasel with 
his body stained with blood, he thought that the boy had been killed, 
and without searching into the matter sprang on the weasel and killed 
him. When he had killed him, he looked and saw, and lo, the boy 
was alive. And he repented, and was ashamed. 

The story of The Traveller and the Goldsmith (p. 204) bears con- 
siderable resemblance to Grimm's fine mdrcTien of The Grateful 
Beasts, and that of the Carpenter's Wife and her Paramour (p. 146), 
probably the original of a well-known fabliau. When we have noted 
that the fable of the Two Pigeons (p. 306 ) occurs in almost identical 
terms in the Arabian Nights,^ we have well-nigh exhausted the list 
of correspondences apparent on a cursory perusal ; but others will 
doubtless suggest themselves to the reader. 

The style of the Syriac version is, happily, for the most part simple, 
and free from the wearisome floweriness of Persian narrative, although 
such phrases as — " inclined to him the shoulder of obedience and 
^displayed the fruits of energy " (p. 2), " fruits seasoned with the salt 
of truth," " poured out his noble character like gold in the fire of 
* See Villon Society's edition, v. 317 


probation " (p. 17), and one or two others, appear to be survivals from 
the Pehlevi version ; but the Syriac translator has in other respects 
played sad havoc with the text by the ruthless interpolation of a 
number of Biblical expressions and phrases that jar in the absurdest 
manner with its general character. The dragging in by the head and 
shoulders of the Cedars of Lebanon (twice), and *• the good things of 
Jerusalem," and the introduction Cp. 95) of the Lion-king's chief 
butler and baker, in evident imitation of the story of Joseph 
(Gen. xl.) — to say nothing of the references to " the Church of 
Christ " and the studding of almost every page with citations from 
the Christian Scriptures, or allusions to Christian dogma — have the 
most comical effect in conjunction with the sententious pessimism of 
the Arabised Indian original, and this peculiarity intensifies our 
regret that Mr. Falconer did not turn his attention to producing an 
improved and literal English translation of the Arabic text, rather 
than to a certain extent waste his pains and scholarship on the 
rendering of the doubly-diluted and garbled Syriac version. 

For the purely scholastic portion of Mr. Falconer's work we can 
have little but praise. His introductory account of the history and 
bibliography of this famous book (which, as he says, has probably 
had more readers in its various versions than any other except the 
Bible), is lucid, complete, and excellent, and his notes, as a whole, 
are all that can be wished. It may, however, be remarked that the 
note (p. 1. of Introduction) concerning Firdausi should properly have 
been placed at the foot of p. xxii., where the first mention of the 
national poet of Persia occurs, and that lugha (p. xl. of Introduction) 
should be lugheh, of which word it is the plural form. A note is 
badly wanted at p. 283, where it should be explained that a must 
elephant is by no means (as the reader is left to suppose) the same 
thing as an " untrained " one, the first being, indeed, an elephant in 
heat {lit. drunken), and the term must being also applied to an 
elephant trained for fighting and brought to a peculiar state of 
exasperation by means of a heating diet. Dinar (p. 300), again, 
cannot be said to be equivalent to the Latin denarius, the former coin 

I representing a value of (circa) ten shillings, and the latter one of ten 
asses, or about sevenpence. We regret, also, that Mr. Falconer should 


an uncalled-for innovation of the Dutch school, and still more that 
he should have adopted the barbarous and unmeaning practice of 
rendering the dotted Jcafhj the letter q; nor do we see why he should 
turn carob (locust-bean, p. 27) into ''bean-food." Ballkli (p. 105) is 
probably a misprint for Balkh. These are, however, trifling blemishes, 
and do not in any way detract from the general merits of his work. 

Among new works bearing upon the science of Folk-lore we must 
mention The History of the Forty Vezirs ; or. The Story of the Forty 
Morns and Eves, written in Turkish by Sheykh-Zada, and now done 
into English by Mr. E. J. W. Gibb, to be published shortly by 
Mr. George Kedway. The book is a translation of a well-known 
collection of Turkish popular tales made in the 15th century. 

Next comes a series of Old-Welsh Texts, edited and revised by 
Prof. John Khys, of Oxford. 

The Countess E. Martinengo Cesaresco has in the Press : Essays 
in the Study of Folk-Songs, to be published by Mr. George Redway. 

The Council propose holding two or three meetings of the Society 
to discuss the question raised by the various writers on the " Science 
of Folk-lore." It is hoped Captain R. C. Temple and Mr. Stuart 
Glennie will read papers. 

The Committee of the Palestine Exploration Fund have long had 
under consideration the collection of all that has to do with the 
manners and customs of the present inhabitants of Palestine and 
other parts of Syria. Before a serious attempt could be made to 
carry out this inquiry successfully, it was necessary, first, to find an 
organized machinery of agents, who should be directed by some com- 
petent persons in the country, under the Committee at home. This 
organization, with a large body of agents highly educated and intel- 
ligent, has now been found, and is placed at the disposition of the 
Committee. It remained, therefore, to draw up questions which these 
agents will be invited to ask ; and the Folk-Lore Society has been 
asked to co-operate in the codification of a series of questions on 
Folk-lore. A Committee of the Society has been appointed for this 
purpose, and it is proposed to publish a manual of " Folk-lore Notes 
and Queries." 


HAVE been asked to state this evening my views on the 
Science of Folk-Lore, and, as the subject is still under 
discussion, it seems to me that it should be understood 
that the opinions put forward by any particular person 
are his only, and it is with this limitation that I now wish to speak. 
What follows is meant to be merely the expression of my ideas for 
the time being, subject to modification as the discussion wears on — to 
be, in fact, a contribution to aid in solving the question this Society 
has taken up. I should here mention that my arguments will be 
chiefly illustrated by reference to Indian Folk-lore, because that is 
the branch of the subject with which I am best acquainted. 

When we come to talk of science we must begin with definitions, 
and the first matter to be defined in this connection is naturally the 
term " Folk-lore." What is Folk-lore, and what is not Folk-lore ? 
These questions are not by any means easily answered, as I personally 
found when fixing on the headings under which to class the various 
contributions sent into Fanjdb Notes and Queries. When an editor 
has to arrange a mass of miscellaneous paragraphs on various subjects 
connected with a land and its people, if he would avoid conveying to 
his readers a general sense of muddle, he must classify his informa- 
tion somehow. Music, Arts and Industries, Administration, Natural 
History, Botany, Geography, History, Antiquities, Numismatics, 
Bibliography, Ethnography, and Language, came naturally enough 
as distinct subjects. Then we have Religion, Social Customs, Songs 
and Catches, Proverbs and Sayings, and — shall we say it ? — Folk- 
lore. Such an editor will soon find that Rehgion, so far as it is 
Superstition — and with many peoples it should be remembered that 
it is nothing else — is Folk-lore ; so is a Social Custom, so far as it 
Vol. 4.— Part 3. o 


is founded on a superstition ; while Songs and Catches, Proverbs and 
Sayings, are only interesting so far as they embody Folk-lore. 
History, Natural History, and Ethnography, are also Folk-lore, so 
far as they preserve Legends; Language, again, includes much, in 
the matter of derivation especially, that is purely Folk-lore : while 
Antiquities are almost inseparable from Legends. Folk-lore, in fact, 
is present in almost every subject connected with the study of man- 
kind, and with many it is so mixed up with sober fact as to be 
practically inextricable. Careful as I have been to try and keep the 
Folk-lore notes in Panjdh Notes and Queries separate from the 
remaining subjects, I have found it quite impossible to do so alto- 
gether, and in some cases it has been so hard to say whether a certain 
scrap of information was about Keligion or Folk-lore, that it has 
seemed to be of no consequence under which heading it was classed : 
it belonged equally to both. 

What, then, is this Folk-lore that we find pervading everything 
human ? It seems to me that the answer is to be found in the term 
itself. As a specimen of the general conception of the meaning of 
the term, the last edition of Webster, quoting the late Archbishop 
Trench as its authority, says that it means " rural tales, legends, or 
superstitions." I think every one here will admit that this definition 
does not go nearly far enough. If we take "folk" to mean the 
general community, we get "folk-lore" to be the ^*lore" of the 
people. " Lore " means and has meant learning in general, but, 
putting aside derivations and past meanings — a proceeding to which 
each generation in all parts of the world has always asserted its right 
— I think it is fair to say that " lore " nowadays, and at any rate in 
this connection, is learning of the kind that is opposed to science, 
meaning by "science " ascertained knowledge. Folk-lore, then, is, in 
the first place, popular learning, the embodiment, that is, of the poimlar 
ideas on all matters connected with man and his surroundings. Un- 
ascertained knowledge is, of course, apt to be very wrong, and so 
much is this the case that we may take it, that where the popular 
interpretation of a fact is quite incorrect, the statement is pretty 
certain to be capable of classification under Folk-lore. A superstition, 
as being an unreasonable and excessive belief, is a fact of Folk-lore : 


SO is a legend as unfounded history, or a popular derivation as 
plausible but unwarranted etymology. 1 do not mean by this that 
every mistake in historical books is to be classed as a Folk-lore fact. 
It is essential that the error should be of the people, popular : that it 
should enter into the general belief in a popular sense. We may 
prove that the Princes were never murdered in the Tower, but the 
usual historical statement that they were would still stand as a mis- 
statement, not as a folk-legend. We may prove to a moral certainty 
that Amy Kobsart was never murdered, that Leicester never ill- 
treated her, that he publicly married her, that she was by no means a 
girl when she died, that Sir Richard Varley was in reality a most 
worthy country gentleman, and that the whole story as given by Scott 
is a fiction taken from a vindictive pamphlet issued by Leicester's 
enemies; and yet, though no part of it is accurate histoiy, the story is 
not a folk-tale. At the same time, if the story of Queen Elizabeth 
and Raleigh's cloak can be shown to be the common property of the 
human race, it is worth investigation as a folk-tale. 

" The embodiment of the popular ideas on all matters connected 
with man and his surroundings," the preliminary definition above 
arrived at from a dissection of the term '' Folk-lore," is perhaps a little 
too wide. It is at any rate too long-winded, and I put forward the 
primary definition, the poindar explanation of observed factSj as fairly 
satisfying all requirements and permitting us to differentiate between 
what is and what is not Folk-lore better than any other. I do not, 
however, think it possible to keep the boundary always quite distinct : 
a fact that need not distress us, for we are here in no greater difficulty 
than are the votaries of any other science. Who can tell precisely in 
every case where animal life ends and plant life begins ? And who 
will under every circumstance distinguish between reason and instinct, 
or between the animate and inanimate world ? 

The /o?is et origo of all Folk-lore is apparently the instinct of man 
to account for the facts that he observes round about him, and hence 
the particular form in which I have cast the initial definition of the 
term. Man observes a fact, and he at once sets about to explain it. 
This he does by instinct ; but the nature of his explanation depends 
upon his mental condition, and in arriving at it he is bound by 



certain natural laws which I will endeavour to shadow forth presently. 
Critical acumen and that accurate explanation of facts, which is 
based on systematic study and observation, and which we now 
call scientific, has come very slowly to mankind: — to a great extent 
indeed in our days. It has arrived at its present condition point 
by point, as has everything else in the world ; and the cruder the 
mind of the varieties of man all the world over, now and in times 
past, and the further from the scientific state, the rougher the 
explanation and the wilder the guesses at truth. It must be remem- 
bered that the scientific explanation of a phenomenon involves critical 
observation, which is itself the outcome of a long continued education; 
the power of logical deduction, which may be reckoned as being 
mainly absent from the average popular mind ; and the faculty for 
extended application, which is to a great extent the distinguishing 
mark of a trained intellect. What chance then has the untutored 
savage, or indeed the uncultivated member of a civilized race, of 
arriving at a right conclusion about anything that comes within his 
ken ? As a matter of fact, the stages of observation, collection and 
arrangement of facts, and argument thereon, are impossible to such 
an individual, and in common parlance he invariably jumps to his 
conclusions : not because he is too idle to do otherwise, but because 
he cannot help himself. Hence comes Folk-lore, not exactly the 
Folk-lore we now study, — for this is a growth with a long history of 
its own, — but Folk-lore as the poimlar explanation of phenomena. 

Where the effect does not immediately follow the cause, or where 
the connection between cause and effect is not at once apparent, the 
popular mind cannot hit off the true explanation of the effect, except 
by accident, and hence it is that Folk-lore is to a great extent a 
permanent record, as well as a perpetuation, of popular errors. It 
must always be so. To take altogether modern phenomena. Will a 
savage or an Asiatic peasant, for instance, ever give the true reason 
for the movement of the trains on the railway that is being made 
through his lands ? The motor will be a devil that sits in the engine, 
or the engine itself a panting spirit controlled by the driver; anything 
rather than the reality. So will the telegraph wires be a means of 
carrying letters, or be endowed with the power of communicating the 


secrets of those living near them. It haf? always been so. From 
time immemorial eclipses have been caused by a monster that periodi- 
cally eats up the sun and moon, and disgorges them again. A very 
large number of our Indian fellow-subjects of the Queen-Empress 
think so still. 

There is a corollary to be attached to the above definition of Folk- 
lore, and the term for the iturpose of study must be made to include 
the customs which arise out of it. These customs originate in that 
common sense which is so often ridiculed as the most uncommon 
nonsense. A demon or god, for the terms are in practice nearly 
synonymous, lives in one of the Indian fig-trees, as is clear to the 
natives from the perpetual trembling of its leaves : this much is the 
explanation of cause and effect. All demons or gods are capable of 
good and evil : this is anthropomorphism — man arguing down to 
himself. Therefore it is obvious that the demon or god must be pro- 
pitiated by a gift : this is common sense underlaid by anthropo- 
morphism. Hence the gifts to the tree, now a general religious 
custom. By similar stages we arrive at the equally universal Indian 
social custom of opprobriously naming children. Three children of 
doting parents die successively, — quite an ordinary occurrence among 
primitive people who let their little ones run naked and have no idea 
of caring for them, as we understand this matter, — and what causes 
it ? Not want of care assuredly in their eyes, but the spirit that has 
taken a fancy to the babes, and acquired them for himself. How 
shall they avoid this in the future ? " By cheating the spirit," 
answers common sense, and so the next little boy is given a dis- 
gusting name, and dressed up as a girl until past childhood. I 
think the process by which custom grows out of myth is to be ex- 
plained somewhat as above, though I would at this stage again 
remind my hearers that every social fact, as we now observe it, has a 
long history behind it, and that this must be first examined before its 
existence can be scientifically accounted for. 

If the full definition, that Folk-lore as an object of study is the 
popular explanation of observed facts and the customs arising there- 
from, is to stand, it must reasonably meet all circumstances, and 
separate, as sharply as may be, what is fmrA what is not Folk-lore. 


Let us proceed to put it to a few tests. Religion as being a belief in 
and reverence for God (or the gods), including the rites and cere- 
monies legitimately arising from such belief and reverence, is not 
Folk-lore ; but superstition and all the practices arising therefrom is. 
Thus the Muhammadan belief in Allah and Muhammad the Prophet 
of Allah, and all the legitimate rites and ceremonies connected with 
the worship of Allah, cannot be reckoned as Folk-lore ; but the 
popular story of the martyrdom of Hasan and Hussain and the 
miracle-play arising out of it are nothing else. The teaching and 
philosophy of Buddhism are not Folk-lore, nor are many of the 
modern ceremonies connected with that religion as such ; but the 
*' Romantic Legend of Buddha," as Mr. Beale has called it, 
and the Jdttakas are purely so. Passing on to Social Customs, the 
matriarcat and the many curious remains of bygone necessities and 
times still to be found in the laws of inheritance through females, 
the levirate and other rules of barbarous marriage, and such customs 
as polyandry and exogamy and the survivals of marriage by capture, 
customs connected with births and deaths related to religion as dis- 
tinguished from superstition, rules for tribal government and social 
intercourse, are not Folk-lore ; but all the thousand and one notions 
as to the habits and actions of spirits and supernatural things, and 
the practices arising out of the urgency of counteracting their 
influence, are Folk-lore pet}- excellence. According to the definition, 
too, probably the whole subject of totemism, should be classed as 
Folk-lore. Turning to Ethnography, the distinction is not so easily 
upheld, but it is still, I think, clear enough. For instance, where in 
India a tribe of really low, and, in fact, lost origin, as far as its 
information about itself goes, erroneously claims — and this is a com- 
mon occurrence — an honourable Rajput descent, it deceives nobody, 
and the statement is not a fact of Folk-lore, any more than would 
a bogus family genealogy be in England ; but when it goes on, like 
the Gakkhars of the Hills near the Indus — those ancient Hindus 
who so bravely resisted Mahmud of Ghazni, and who were forcibly 
converted to Islam not more than 500 or 600 years ago — to claim 
descent from the Kayanian Kings of Persia, and invent a story to 
prove it, then Folk-lore steps in and takes possession of the ground. In 


the like manner the tendency of untutored nations is naturally towards 
the exaggeration of the terrors with which they invest persistent 
enemies in the past, and hence arises much ethnological Folk-lore — 
the monkey races and the Eakshasas of India, the ogres or Uigur 
Tatars of Europe, the Giaours (Jaurs) and Guebres (Gabrs) or fire- 
worshipping opponents of the early Arab conquerors of Persia. In 
the case of History and Geography, as long as sober facts are pur- 
ported to be related, let the relation be as inaccurate as it may, there 
is no Folk-lore. Thus, however unfounded and capable of refutation 
Macaulay's version of the doings of Warren Hastings and Sir Elijah 
Impey may be, it is in no part Folk-lore ; but when the natives of 
Bengal come to telling us that Nuncomar (Nand Kumar) was a very 
holy man who was hung by the English by a golden chain on a 
gallows fixed in the middle of the Ganges in answer to his petition to 
the gods that he might die in the full possession of his faculties and 
in the act of prayer, they are repeating a true legend and Folk-lore 
is in the ascendant. The body of the Nawab of Loharfi, who was 
hanged for encompassing the death of Mr. Eraser at Dehli some fifty 
years since, no doubt swung round, as is related, after death to the 
direction of Mecca (Makka). This may be called a fact of history, 
but when you add, as tbo natives of Dehli do, that this was because 
he was innocent and a martyr, you are repeating a fact of Folk-lore. 
The same reasoning applies to all matters connected with ancient 
remains and antiquities generally. To Language the definition seems 
to be peculiarly applicable. Men have long observed that words grow 
up around them and have a derivation one from another. Especially 
is this the case with familiar proper names of people and things ; and 
in all climes the populace has invented derivations for appellatives, 
the real origin of which has been lost. In India the processes of 
folk-etymology are still a living force in guiding the popular fancy. 
The native mind has not at all yet reached the scientific stage, and, 
consequently, the most childish derivations are everywhere gravely 
asserted as reasonable origins for the forms of names. This happens, 
too, in quarters where such things are the least to be expected. In 
the Panjdh Notes and Queries I have collected a string of native 
derivations of tribal and caste names, which are purely imaginary, 


from the Settlement Report of Ambdld, a solemn Government pnblica- 
tion relating to the method of collecting the land revenue of the 
district, and consequently recording only the sober and useful facts 
regarding the people and their history, but many of these facts as 
detailed by the natives are pure Folk-lore. Colonel Yule, in the last 
of those monumental works which have given him so high a reputa- 
tion, has provided us with a whole dictionary of terms in which folk- 
etymology appears ; , but throughout his Glossary of Anglo-Indian 
Words it seems to me that the Folk-lore is easily separable from the 
instances quoted of mistaken etymologies. Thus, whether or not it 
be right to ultimately derive the now well-known word " godown " 
from the Malay gadong, as some do, or from the Tamil kidangu, as 
others do, in any case those who may in the end be proved to be 
wrong merely occupy the place of one defeated in argument ; but the 
concocter of such a term as " Hodson- Jobson " out of Yd Hasan yd 
Hussain, the popular cry at the Muhammadan festival of the Mu- 
harram, who applies it to the whole ceremony, is guilty of jumping to 
his conclusions in true folk-fashion. So is the user of such a name as 
" cow-itch " for the irritating Indian bean ; since this term arises, as 
the result of striving after a meaning from the modern native name 
kawacJi, which is really a Prakritic derivative, by a legitimate process 
of boiling-down, of the Sanskrit kapi-kachchhu — i.e., monkey-itch; 
a meaning, by the way, that has escaped Colonel Yule. As regards 
Proverbs and Songs I need hardly say anything here, as I presume 
it to be admitted that Proverbs are the memoria technica of the ideas 
of the people, and that their Songs are the musical expression of the 
same. Folk-tales, where not exactly legends, I take to belong to the 
same category, 

I fear the discussion on the definition of the term '^ Folk-lore" 
has taken rather a long time, but it is worth while to thrash out this 
point thoroughly, as everything that follows must depend on what we 
mean by the name of our subject. Let us now pass on to the " Science 
of Folk-lore," by which I suppose is meant the study of Folk-lore in 
the recognised scientific style. As to this I have already expressed 
my views elsewhere, and these, with your permission, I will reiterate 
now with modifications, since what is required on the present occa- 


sion is a discourse as to the manner in which the Society should set 
about this study. 

In all scientific research observation of the facts from which the 
deductions are to be made of course comes first, but this observation 
must be critical. It is of no sort of use to observe eveiything indis- 
criminately, for this leads to confusion. Only the facts of Folk-lore — 
in other words, the matters that fall within the definition of the term — 
are wanted ; hence the primary importance of defining what Folk-lore 
is. If I may be permitted to do so I would here point out a danger 
to enthusiasts, for I presume we are all enthusiastic. It consists in 
overdoing the self-appointed task. The subject is so wide, the facts 
to be observed so many and so ubiquitous, and the interest, when once 
roused, rapidly becomes so keen, that we are all apt to observe too 
much. Too much soon includes rubbish, and then down comes our 
friend the critic. I say " friend " advisedly, howsoever too candid he 
may appear to be at the time with his cold advice to examine and go 
carefully. Dr. Westcott used to be fond of explaining to the boys 
at Harrow how it was that a modem savant^ unlike his ancient proto- 
type, could not learn all the sciences, by drawing a series of circles, 
one inside the other, representing respectively the various stages of 
knowledge attained by man during his progress on earth. A bright 
intellect could easily grasp, he used to say, all the knowledge that 
was contained in the small inner circle ; a sound one could manage 
the next; an exceptional mind could master the third ; but the fourth 
was beyond the power of man ; and as for the large outer circle, 
including all modern science, one intelligence could attain to only a 
small portion of it. This was with reference to science generally ; 
but without exaggeration one may say that so greatly has scientific 
knowledge increased of late that what is true of Science as a whole 
is also true of any particular branch of it. A man is indeed oftener 
right than wrong in confining his efforts to the elucidation of a 
portion only of a scientific subject. Another danger is in being dis- 
heartened at the rigid requirements of Science. Says a humble votary 
of Folk-lore : ''It is of no use my doing anything; these scientific 
gentlemen want so much ; and how am I to know whether my 
observations when made are of any use ? " To such a question the 


answer would be that the difficulty looks much greater than it is. 
The requirements are not in reality very difficult to understand, and 
when grasped fulfilment is almost instinctive. One can learn some- 
thing here from school-children. Most boys in a well-taught school 
will correctly point out the verbs, adverbs and nouns in a sentence, 
though not one of them has ever understood, or is indeed ever likely to 
understand, the jumble of ideas that does duty in the school grammar 
for the definitions of these parts of speech. Definitions are in fact 
the most difficult of all points for a teacher to tackle, and are 
formidable to the student only in appearance, and that because, being 
so difficult, they are often clumsily expressed. Practically no one is 
too humble to observe a Folk-lore fact, and no fact is too trifling or 
commonplace to be worthy of record. What is an every-day occurrence 
of no import in your neighbourhood may be a new revelation to the 
student seeking for links — the existence of which he suspects — to 
complete the chain of his investigations. The moral of the argument 
is, that between the rashness that would grasp at everything and the 
timidity that would be led by the nose, there lies a golden mean 
dependent on individual judgment. In the conduct of a scientific 
study — it being a human affair — something must be left to discretion, 
and this is a matter that cannot be avoided. 

Having decided on what we are to observe we come to the method 
of record. Here accuracy and attention to essential details are 
paramount considerations : it being constantly borne in mind that 
every fact collected is intended to be an item to be eventually brought 
into account. Unaccompanied by such details as time, place, and 
nationality of currency and its history, where such is known, the bare 
statement of a fact is not of much use; while so to record it as to 
make it unfitted for collation is a mere waste of time. It is of great 
importance, too, that the collection should be systematically mude. 
Not long ago a little book was published, by my friend Mr. Man, on 
the Andamane?e Islanders, which is a reprint of papers read before 
the Anthropological Institute, and which is to my mind a model of 
what a systematic record should be. In it Mr. Man goes through 
his subject steadily point by point until he has given us a complete 
view of the savages he has studied. Commencing with their physical 


characteristics lie passes on to their mental capacities, their tribal dis- 
tribution, social customs, habits and folk-lore. He next considers their 
language, ceremonies, superstitions and religious beliefs, and then 
their social relations, personal habits, trade, arts, and manufactures. 
This enumeration of the heads of his monograph gives them in but 
the merest outline : the details are worthy of consideration. They 
are, however, all to be found elsewhere in a more complete form, for 
the basis of his work is a skeleton plan drawn up under the auspices 
of the British Association for the Advancement of Science, called a 
Manual of Anthropological Notes and Queries. A similar guide-book 
for the use of travellers has been compiled by the Royal Geographical 
Society. This shows the feasibility of one of the most useful practical 
duties this Society could undertake, viz. the j)reparation hy committees 
of standard manuals, showing under each branch of the subject what 
kind of facts it is desirable to collect, in what order they should be 
recorded, and how they should be classified. In matters of this kind 
the most experienced of us ought not to disdain the collective advice 
of his fellow- students, and to the inexperienced such guides would be 
invaluable. I do not think we could inculcate too persistently the 
importance of being systematic in our joint labours, for though it is 
all capable of being made to work out in one direction, there is a vast 
mass of multifarious matter to be collected, arranged and sifted, and 
the natural tendency is towards an aimless aggregation of details. 
This must lead to hopeless confusion unless checked, and as it is 
sure to perpetually exist, it must always be guarded against. 

If we act rightly as to these two points the remainder of the work 
may be in a great measure left to take care of itself. In the matter 
of induction those who undertake to reason on the facts collected, and 
thus to explain the general principles which underlie the phenomena 
observed, become ipso facto teachers; and I think it will be admitted 
that such persons should be left to go their own way, that the sound- 
ness of their doctrines should be the only ground on which these 
should eventually stand or fall, and that no attempt should be made 
to coerce them into a particular style of argument. At the same 
time it is within the right of every student to put forward his views 
as to the method which should be adopted, and it is in the exercise of 


this right that I ask you to listen for a few moments to my ideas on 
this point. The basis of my argument is that every thing in this 
world as we now find it, — or indeed since man has been able at any 
time to find it — has a history, and that to attempt to explain any 
phenomenon, using the term in its strict sense of something that 
meets the eye, by any process that does not involve examination of 
such history, is unsafe, and therefore unscientific. The Max Miillerian 
Theory of Comparative Mythology, as the latest number of Melusine 
calls it, has been hotly opposed for some time past, and many hard 
things have been said of it, but to my mind the overwhelming argu- 
ment against it is, that it is not scientific. It does precisely what it 
should not. It jumps to its conclusions, ignores history, deduces its 
facts from theory, and does not induce its theory from the facts. As 
some at any rate of those present will know, I have been for some time 
past engaged in unearthing all that can be ascertained regarding Raja 
Rasalu, the King Arthur of the Panjab. To my surprise about two 
years ago I found that in the Westminster Review a mythologist had 
duly appropriated the hero as a solar myth. No one at all acquainted 
with the Science of Comparative Mythology could, the article said, 
for a moment doubt it. The roots of this strongly-worded belief were 
fixed in certain tales about Rasalii, which had been published by Mr. 
Swynnerton, and which had made the hero out to be a wanderer on 
the earth, who fought tremendous battles against the giants and 
conquered them. He was, moreover, a '' fatal child," i.e., one 
destined to injure his parents, and is what is in India known as a 
" Zinda Pir," a holy personage expected to appear again on the earth ; 
and, lastly, he had a wonderful horse. This set the writer thinking 
about Indra, Woden, Sisyphus, Hercules, Sampson, Apollo, Theseus, 
Arthur, Tristram, Perseus, (Edipus, Phaethon, Orpheus, Amphion, Pan, 
and others, and on certain points in the legends of such personages, 
which led him to the conclusion that the whole lot, including Rasalu, 
were elemental myths of some sort or other. Now I venture to 
submit that it is capable of historical proof that Rasalu was a popular 
leader on to whose name has been hung, as a convenient peg, much of 
the floating folk-lore of flie Panjab. At any rate I hope to show 
conclusively before my volumes on the legends of the Panjab have 


come to an end that the particular tale, which went to prove beyond 
doubt in the mind of our Comparative Mythologist that Kasalu was a 
solar myth, are by no means confined to that hero, but are the general 
property of the heroes of India, told of this one or that as occasion 
arises. They are, moreover, as regards Rasalu himself, to a great 
extent only one local version out of many of his story. If this West- 
minster reviewer did not jump to his conclusions, I should like to 
know what to say of his method of reasoning ? In forming a judg- 
ment on such views as he expresses we should not allow any display 
of learning to dazzle us into concurrence. Doubtless the outside 
scientific public does not do so. Erudition is knowledge culled from 
literature, and is not science, which is knowledge derived from the 
proper investigation of facts ; and so the most learned of disquisitions 
may not be in the least degree scientific. That the works of the 
philological school of Comparative Mythologists are learned enough 
there is no doubt, but to call Comparative Mythology, as they under- 
stand it, a science, is, I submit, to use a misnomer. Much of their 
method is indeed empiricism in excelsis. The Science of Folk-lore 
should include Comparative Mythology, but I would warn the members 
of this Society, that if the notion gets abroad that they are mere 
dilettanti^ from whose labours nothing solid is to be expected, it will 
take a long while to eradicate it ; and that if they once allow — as have 
the Comparative Mythologists — the scientific world to consider their 
methods haphazard, they will bring upon their works a contempt 
which will not be altogether undeserved. 

It will have been observed by students that the Comparative Myth- 
ologists have held the peasantry of all ages to be endowed with very 
fine powers of imagination. Now this seems to me to be a mistake, 
and the truth to be that the rustic imaginative faculty is, and has 
always been, but moderately developed. Physiologists teach us that 
the action of a man's brain is governed by physical laws, over which 
he has really no control, and that his powers are limited in all direc- 
tions. Now I put it as a proposition worth examining, that the limits 
of human imagination are conterminous with the hounds of human 
experience. Of poetic afflatus the ordinary story-teller has only a 
small share. A mediaeval version of the story of Tristram and the 


etherealized legend of Lord Tennyson are two very different things ; 
and what the credulous do in practice, when getting up a legend, is 
to allow their imaginations to exaggerate what they have either seen 
or heard about, i.e., experienced. The themes are always set them, 
as it were : they merely concoct the variations. Whatever they do, 
they do unconsciously, and it is nearer to scientific truth to say that 
all Folk-lore is a growth, than to hold that its ideas are the product 
of the inventive genius of untutored man. The Pedigree of the Devil 
is a book, followed quite lately by a History of Monsters j which takes 
up the line of argument, that constructive demonology generally is 
really due to the survival of memories of creatures that have existed 
on earth within the ken of man, though not within historical times. 
There is much more in this than would at first appear, and the theory, 
being capable of inductive demonstration, is therefore worthy of being 
looked into. 

The upshot of the above remarks is that the historical method of 
investigation as regards Folk-lore is scientific, because it is safe; and 
that it is unsafe to assume for the purposes of argument that imagin- 
ation is an unlimited quantity. Those who follow the historical 
method cannot be charged with quackery, for they must at least know 
what they are about at every step ; and believe me, the more matter- 
of-fact an argument is, and the less room it allows for the play of 
emotion, the less scope is there for error and the more it convinces. 
I crave your pardon for thus pressing the value of the historical method 
on your attention. I do so because it seems to me that the tendency 
of those who have preceded me on this subject is to be content with 
mere comparison as a basis for their explanation of the phenomena of 
Folk-lore. What I would strongly urge is that we should remember 
that the world of which we have human record is so old that all 
things — even those which appear to us as primitive — must have a 
history, and that before we comjyare we should, so far as we are able, 
ascertain that we are historically justified in making the comparison, 
A certain custom exists in Holland, and its counterpart in India. 
Query : Are they connected at all, and, if so, which springs from the 
other ? I would say that, first, the history of each in its own country 
should be examined, until we come to the point when it can be proved 


that there was a contact between the peoples of Holland and India : 
then that researcli should go on to see if in both lands the custom is 
traceable beyond the point of contact. If so, simple comparison is 
useless. If it only makes its appearance for the first time in one of 
them after the point of contact, the process of derivation can be 
continued on sound principles. This mode of investigation has been 
so effectively used in such books as the Philological Society's English 
Dictionary and Yule's Glossary above mentioned, that I would 
earnestly recommend it to your notice. 

There is one thing more that savans will demand of the Science of 
Folk-lore. It must have a definite object, and occupy a definite place 
in the category of sciences. On this point I will, with your leave, 
repeat what I have already said elsewhere, which is this : " The wide 
term anthropology covers all the subjects, from the examination of 
which we are led to grasp the details of that complicated structure— 
the modern human being in his mental and physical aspects. Folk- 
lore is, or at least should be, one of these subjects. Just as physio- 
logists are enabled by a minute and exact examination of skulls or 
teeth or hair, and so on, to differentiate or connect the various races 
of mankind, so should Folk-lorists, as in time I have no doubt they 
will, be able to provide reliable data towards a true explanation of the 
reasons why particular peoples are mentally what they are found to 
be. Folk-lore then, as a scientific study, has a specific object, and 
occupies a specific place." 

In short, let it be clearly understood that Folk-lorists know what 
they are driving at, and that they moreover know how to set about 
their business, and they may take it for granted that there will not 
be much difficulty in procuring a general acceptance of the view that 
Folk-lore is a science. 

Great as the temptation is, I will make no attempt on this occasion 
to enter into the examination of the various branches of the general 
subject of Folk-lore, or to discuss the proper method of conducting the 
inquiry into such matters as folk-tales, superstitions, customs, &c., 
partly because the time at my disposal will by no means admit of it, 
and partly because it seems that what we have to settle now are 
general principles. The exact manner of application of these will of 


course have to vary with the cu'cumstances of the several branches, 
but whatever be the system we adopt, it will have to be continued 
throughout all our researches, wheresoever they may carry us. 

Doubtless some will be found to assert that after all there is nothing 
much in the shape of practical advantage to be got out of Folk-lore, 
however scientifically studied. To refute in advance any such argu- 
ment, I have this evening brought with me a book, which will be new 
to most people in England, and to which I would draw special atten- 
tion. It is called Notes on the Spirit Basis of Belief and Custom, and 
is being produced by the Bombay Government, under the guidance of 
Mr. James Campbell, the able editor of the official Gazetteer of the 
Bombay Presidency. It is, you will perceive, a big book, and con- 
sists, indeed, of 510 foolscap pages, printed on half margin for a par- 
ticular reason — for it purports to be only the rough draft of a summary 
of the chief details of the customs of the population of Bombay, and 
the blank margin is intended for the additions of those to whom it is 
circulated for information. Rough, incomplete, and imperfect as it 
professes to be, it is by far the best exposition of Indian Folk-lore 
that has yet been compiled. The treatment of the subject is through- 
out systematic, the theory is built up out of the facts accumulated, 
and each item is made to occupy its natural position in the structure. 
The introduction opens with the words : '' In most cases the known 
and open object of the nurse and wise woman, i.e., the private element 
in Indian family rites, is spirit-scaring." In perusing the pages that 
follow, one cannot help feeling that, though they stand first, these 
words were written last, and thus it ought always to be in works pur- 
porting to be scientific. The best impression a writer on science can 
convey to his readers is that his theory is the outcome of the study 
of the facts he has brought together. I have been so much struck 
with the method pursued by Mr. Campbell in supporting his theory 
that I have had the tabular statement of it, and also his table of 
contents, with suitable modifications, printed for circulation to-night. 
From these you will see that he has covered a considerable portion of 
the whole field of Folk-lore, and how readily his facts fall into their 
allotted places. Now, Mr. Campbell says in his preface that his notes 
were prepared " to show the natives of India how early and how wide- 


spread are the ideas which form the basis and which show the meaning 
of Indian nursery rites and old wives' cures," and he goes on to say : 
" These practices and beliefs are found close under the surface in all 
nations, however high their religion and refined their culture. They 
have the great interest and value of being survivals of often the only 
traces of forefathers as rude and hard pressed as the wildest tribes 
now on earth. Like present mid tribes^ the ancestors of all nations 
had practices coarse and strange, hut always sensihUj based on the 
experience of what had stood them in greatest stead in their ceaseless 
and uphill fight with disease and death." These are weighty words, 
and show the every-day practical value of such researches as the 
writer's. I have no hesitation in saying that to us Englishmen such 
studies are not only practical, but they are in some respects of the first 
importance. The practices and beliefs included under the general 
head of Folk-lore make up the daily life of the natives of our great 
dependency, control their feelings, and underlie many of their actions. 
We foreigners cannot hope to understand them rightly unless we 
deeply study them, and it must be remembered that close acquaintance 
and a right understanding begets sympathy, and sympathy begets 
good government; and who is there to say that a scientific study 
which promotes this, and, indeed, to some extent renders it possible, 
is not a practical one ? 

In running over the various efforts already made by this Society to 
erect the study of Folk-lore into a Science, it may seem to some that 
the above remarks have come rather late in the day ; but I have been 
emboldened to make them, as those members, who have a practical 
experience of the study, have, as I gather, been directly invited to 
communicate their individual notions. Soon after its formation the 
Folk-Lore Society began to take a scientific view of its subject, 
though it hardly seems to have been founded with that idea. There 
are no signs of any but a literary and antiquarian interest in Folk- 
lore in Mr. Thoms's preface to the first volume of the Record ; but 
Mr. Ralston in the same volume draws attention to a system of classi- 
fication and nomenclature of folk-tales, and the Council commenced 
on the bibliography of Folk-lore and the indexing of Folk-lore books. 

Vol. 4. — Part 3. v 


Nothing much has since been done as to the third of these points, but 
the first two have been considerably developed. In their first Report, 
too, the Council began to define the word " Folk-lore," and to talk of 
the ^' Science " ; but their statement of the work that the Society pro- 
posed to itself was still mainly confined to the collection of materials. 
Mr. Lang, however, devoted his preface to the second volume of the 
Record mostly to the *' Science of Folk-lore," and what was to be 
expected of it; and the following year saw Mr. Nutt's translation 
of Sebillot's scheme of classification, and its issue to members in 
pamphlet form. At the same time Mr. Lang suggested the sys- 
tematic classification of Proverbs, and a committee was formed for 
this purpose. The fourth volume was enriched by Mr. Nutt's "Aryan 
Expulsion and Return Formula," with the valuable chart attached, 
which led to a very important result in the formation of the Folk- 
Tale Committee. The fifth and last volume contained the Report of 
this committee, which included the system of tabulating Folk-tales 
since found so useful; and the Annual Report of the Council, published 
at the same time, showed how the Society's work was progressing 
from the collection of materials to the consideration of the same, it 
being no longer possible to restrict its work to its original sphere. 
We now come to the Folk-Lore Journal, and by the time the second 
volume is reached we find the scientific study of Folk-lore already 
developed into a branch of anthropological science ; and at p. 285 is 
Mr. Gomme's note on '* Folk-lore Terminology," which, especially 
since he followed it up with the wish that it should be settled once 
for all that Folk-lore is a science, has led to that long subsequent dis- 
cussion on the Science of Folk-lore, to which the present paper is 
intended as a contribution. As far as I can make out, the various 
writers who have joined in it have attempted to define the scope of 
the new science, and also to develop a scheme for the study of it. It 
is further clear, from what they have said, that each scheme of study 
put forth has depended on the definition that preceded it. The result 
of the friendly controversy which has thus been carried on is in effect 
this : we have before us several separate definitions of the word 
"Folk-lore," and several distinct plans for studying it, each of which 


implies criticism of the others. When invited, therefore, to state my 
views, I could have expressed them by criticising those that have pre- 
ceded me ; but that would have made me an arbiter of the discussion, 
a position I have no right to assume : and I trust I have not done 
wrongly in increasing the materials for the controversy instead of fol- 
lowing such a course. It seems to me that the questions of the 
correct definition and the right plan can only be settled satisfactorily 
in committee, and will never be set at rest by any individual reasoner. 
I have also perceived that the terms by which it has been proposed to 
name the divisions of each scheme arose out of the scheme itself, so 
that we have already a large number of sub-titles, mostly combined 
with the word " folk," for the minor branches of our study, the greater 
number of which must perforce be eventually discarded; so I have 
avoided adding to the number of the still-born, and have above con- 
fined myself to general principles when discussing the proper method 
of procedure. 

Besides the above-mentioned efiforts to directly advance the develop- 
ment of Folk-lore into a Science, several articles have appeared both in 
the Record and in the Journal which have largely contributed towards 
it. Among these I would mention Mr. Cootes' on the " Neo-Latin 
Fay " and on " Catskin,'' and Mr. Lang's " Anthropology and the 
Vedas," as emphasizing much that I have just advanced as to the 
value of historical treatment. Mr. Clodd's " Philosophy of Punchkin " 
is also valuable as drawing attention to the usefulness of periodically 
taking stock of the materials to hand ; and Mr. Fenton on " Folk-lore 
as an aid to Education" proves that at least one practical result of no 
small consequence is to be got out of the Science. 

The formation of a Folk-lore Libraiy has, I see, been more than 
once mooted, but nothing much has come of the idea. I suggest that 
a Museum as well as a Library would be of immense advantage to 
students, though for either we must find a fixed habitation — a matter 
we have not so far been able to accomplish for ourselves. Would it 
not be possible to start a scheme of donations for both these objects 
in cash or kind, trusting to subscriptions in the future for main- 
tenance ? We have the example of that oldest of all Oriental 



Societies — the Asiatic Society of Bengal — for our encouragement in 
this respect. Its Museum and Library were both commenced and 
kept going "when its funds were very low and its members far fewer 
than ours are now; yet the Museum grew to be valuable enough to be 
taken over by the Government of India as a nucleus for the present 
splendid Indian Museum at Calcutta, and its Library into the fine 
collection of books it now possesses. 

A word as to general terminology. "Folk-lore" is a fine English 
compound, but we are sadly in want of an alternative, if only for** the 
sake of useful and necessary derivatives. "Folk-lorist" and "Folk-loric" 
are not pleasant forms, but we have been long ago driven to use both. 
I would suggest some such classically-formed synonym as demology, 
demosophy or demonomy, — the last for choice — capable of easy develop- 
ment into passable derivatives as being of practical use. Dogma has 
been appropriated already by religious disputants, or dogmology might 
answer, and demodogmology is rather long. Dokeology and dokeswlogy, 
as the study of fanciful opinions, might do, if we are careful to preserve 
the original k to prevent mispronunciation, for " doce-ology " would 
be dreadful. Doxology would answer exactly, if it had not been long 
ago, even in Greek, given a specialized meaning. Demology might 
also be objected to for a similar reason. Anyhow, I hope some con- 
venient term will be before long devised to meet the emergency. 

And now, in thanking you for having patiently listened to this 
exposition of my views, I take occasion to repeat that I have no 
desire to dogmatize ; and that I have given my discourse the particular 
turn it has taken, because I understand it to be still desired that con- 
tributions be made towards the definition of the term " Folk-lore," and 
towards the settlement of the principles on which the Science of Folk- 
lore should be conducted, in order that it may become, what we must 
all wish it to be, a Science in something more than name. 

R. C. Temple. 




APTAIN Temple makes the following remark in his 
Legends of the Panjah : — " The average villager one 
meets in the Panjab and Northern India is, at heart, 
neither a Muhammedan, nor a Hindu, nor a Sikh, nor of 
any other Religion as such is understood by its orthodox — or, to speak 
more correctly, authorised — exponents ; but his Religion is a confused, 
unthinking worship of things held to be holy, whether men or places ; 
in fact, Hagiolatry." A similar conclusion was the chief result of my 
study of Greek Folk-songs. These Folk-songs show that, notwith- 
standing the reign of Christianity, for nearly two thousand years. 
Christian ideas and sentiments have not only not substituted them- 
selves for, but have had hardly any effect even in modifying Pagan 
ideas and sentiments among the Greek folk. Similar conclusions 
have been forced on Folk-lore students even in Scotland, the people of 
which, of all others perhaps, may be imagined to have been most 
profoundly affected by Christianity. Referring to a conversation we 
had last autumn on Paganism, Mr. MacBain, the Rector of Raining's 
School, Inverness, and a first-rate Gaelic scholar, thus writes : — 
'' Proofs are accumulating on my hands to the effect that up till about 
1780 the Highlands were Pagan, with a Pagan Christianity, or rather 
superstition"; and I might give many curious illustrations of the 
Paganism that still exists, or till very recently existed, in Scotland. 
My object, however, at present, is to point out the very important 
inference that must be drawn from these general conclusions as to the 
facts of Folk-life. It is this. Our histories of Religion hitherto. 


lore, therefore, knowledge of which gives knowledge of Folk-life. But 
if we thus define Folk-lore, our starting-point in endeavouring to 
work out a scientific, or natural classification of it, should be evident. 
If Folk-lore is the lore of the Folk about their own Folk-life, a 
Scientific Classification of Folk-lore can surely be founded only on a 
psychological analysis of Folk-life ? The natural Classification of 
Plants is derived from the results of a study of the Organology of 
Plants. And, similarly, the natural Classification of Folk-lore will be 
derived from the results of the study of the Psychology of Folk-life. 

What, then, are the results of a study of the Psychology of Folk- 
life, with a view to the classification of the contents of Folk-lore ? 
These results may be thus summarily stated. The larger data of the 
Consciousness of the Folk, as of Human Consciousness generally, are : 

(1) An External World ; (2) Other Beings; and (3) An Ancestral 
World. Their greater Faculties of Ideation are : (1) Imagination; 

(2) Affection ; and (3) Memory. And their summarised Modes of 
Expression are: (1) Action; (2) Speech ; and (3) Fiction. It is 
not for me here to dilate on, or to defend, this psychological analysis 
of Folk-life. It may very possibly not be the best that could be 
given. That is for us, however, at present a comparatively secondary 
matter. The matter now of first importance, and what I am at 
present anxious to have admitted, is, that it is from a Psychological 
Analysis of Folk-life that a natural Classification of Folk-lore must 
be derived. 

But accepting, at least provisionally, this Analysis of Folk-life, the 
following is the Classification of Folk-lore to which it seems to lead. 
In the first place, just as in our Analysis we distinguish Faculties of 
Ideation from Modes of Expression, we shall distinguish, in our 
Classification, the Subjects of Folk-lore from the Records of Folk- 
lore. Then, as to the Classification of the Subjects of Folk-lore, as 
our Analysis of Folk-life gave us Imagination, Affection, and Memory 
as the Faculties of Ideation ; our Classification of Folk-lore will be 
into (1) Folk-beliefs ; (2) Folk-passions ; and (3) Folk-traditions. 
And corresponding to the Modes of Expression of Ideation — namely, 
Action, Speech, and Fiction — the Records of Folk-lore will be classed 
as (I) Customs; (2) Sayings ; and (3) Poesies. 


Now, though I certainly did not give a thought to the Collector's 
convenience in working out this Classification, I trust that it will be 
found, nevertheless, to have what I believe to be one of the marks of 
a Scientific Classification — namely, easy comprehensibility, and, there- 
fore, convenience. Customs, Sayings, and Poesies. Surely it will 
be always easy enough for the collector to know under which of these 
great classes he should place his find ; and surely there will not 
probably be any find that cannot be placed in one or other of these 
Classes. And it is enough if the Folk-lore-collector, even as* it is 
enough if the Plant-collector, can place his find correctly in one of 
these three great general classes. He is not required to assign it to 
its Sub-class, Genus, Species, and Variety. 

It has, however, in the last number of the FolTc-Lore Journal, been 
objected to the term Sayings as the Name of a Class of Folk-lore 
Eecords, that a Saying usually means a " form of words " ; and it 
has even been said that there is " a very unscientific confusion " in 
using this term to include both formulas and Sayings that are not 
formulas. To this I answer first, with all due respect, that it is not 
the fact that a Saying^ with the best writers, means only a formula. 
" Certainly his noble sayings can I not amend," says Chaucer. And 
" It was a common saying with him," says Sir Thomas More, " that 
such altercations were for a logician, and not for a philosopher.'* 
But, secondly, of the three Sub-classes into which Sayings are divided 
— namely, Prescriptions, Saws, and Forecasts, the vast majority are, 
I believe, " forms of words " ; and hence, in the vast majority of 
cases, the term Sayings would be used in what is affirmed, though, as 
I have shown, incorrectly affirmed, to be its usual sense. And I may 
add that it seems a little illogical to object to my Class of Sayings 
after remarking that " Mr. Stuart Glennie's proposition, that we can 
only know what the people believe by what they do, or say, or relate, 
appears incontrovertible." 

Similarly it is objected to my use of the term Poesy to include 
Stories, Songs, and Sagas, that " it would take ordinary minds some 
time to grasp the idea that they should place prose-matter under 
the head of poetry, or ' poesy,' a word which suggests a motto 


for a ring rather than anything more important." What this last 
remark, however, may mean, I cannot guess. But if it does, as 
affirmed, " take ordinary minds some time to grasp " my use of the 
term Poesyy one has only to turn to Richardson's Dictionary to find 
that it is in perfect accord with the usage of the best modern writers, 
who all consider making, creating, inventing, i.e. invention, not 
verse-making, as the characteristic of poetry. *' Poesy," says Ben 
Jonson, " is the Poet's skill or craft of making, the very fiction 
itself, the reason or form of the work." " Foesy feigns " says Bacon, 
in a long passage which I need not here quote. *' The names given 
to Poets both in Greek and Latin," says Sir W. Temple, '* express 
the same opinion of them in those nations : the Greek signifying 
makers or creators, such as raise admirable frames and fabrics 
out of nothing, which strike with wonder and with pleasure 
the eyes and imaginations of those who behold them. And if I 
used the less common, though perfectly good, English word poesy, 
instead of poetry^ it was just because poetry is vulgarly, though 
incorrectly, held to mean verse-making : and I hoped that the more 
general, and at the same time the more correct, meaning would be 
more easily attached to the less usual word. As to using Tradition 
rather than Poesy as the Class-name including Stories, Songs, and 
Sagas, in what respect are these more entitled to such a distinctive 
Class-name than Prescriptions, Proverbs, Jests, Riddles, and Fore- 
casts, or even than Customs ? Not Stories, Songs, and Sagas only, 
but the whole contents of Folk-lore are Traditional. This is, in 
fact, the chief characteristic of Folk-lore as distinguished from 
Culture-lore, which only began when men began to write, and which, 
therefore, is not traditional, but graphical. 

But I have perhaps noticed these objections at too great length. 
My Classification of Folk-lore is derived from a psychological Analysis 
of Folk-life. Any serious objection to such a Classification must, 
therefore, be of one or more of these three kinds. First, it may 
be objected that a natural Classification of Folk-lore is not to be 
derived from a psychological Analysis of Folk-life. This objection, 
however, will hardly, I believe, be taken by any one acquainted with 


the principles of any of the Classificatory Sciences. Secondly, it may 
be objected that my psychological Analysis is incorrect. This, of 
course, it may well be. Or, thirdly, it may be objected that the 
Classification is incorrectly drawn from the Analysis. This also may 
well be. And what has chiefly urged me to write this paper for the 
Folk-Lore Society has been the hope that corrections of my Analysis, 
or of the Classification drawn therefrom, or of both, would be suggested 
by the members of the Society. 

With respect especially to the Classification of Customs, of Sayings, 
and of Poesies, I expect to have many corrections suggested by 
those who have a far more detailed acquaintance with the facts of 
Folk-lore than I can boast. Provisionally, and subject to such 
corrections, I have classified Customs as (1) Festivals; (2) Cere- 
monies ; and (3) Usages. Sayings I have classified as (1) Prescrip- 
tions ; (2) Saws, and (3) Forecasts. And Poesies I have classified 
as (1) Stories ; (2) Songs ; and (3) Sagas. Further, the contents 
of each of these Sub-classes may, I think, be distinguished as 
(1) Cosmical; (2) Social ; and (3) Ancestral. In my Classification 
of Greek Folk-songs I have used the terms (1) Mythological, (2) 
Affectional, and (3) Historical; and also, in my first paper on 
Classification, the terms (1) Religious, (2) Sexual, and (3) Social. 
But on the whole, I think that the terms now suggested are perhaps 
preferable to both these sets of terms. They certainly have a more 
direct reference to that psychological Analysis which must ever guide 
our Folk-lore Classification. For, as we have seen, an External World, 
Other Beings, and an Ancestral World, are the three great data of 
Folk-consciousness. And if this is so, Customs, Sayings, and 
Poesies, and their Sub-classes, may certainly be distinguished accord- 
ing as they are more especially called forth by, or have reference to, 
the impressions made by the Cosmos, or External World ; Other 
Beings, or Society ; and Ancestors, or the Ancestral World. 

My Classification, as will be remarked, goes throughout in Triads, 
and to this an objection may be taken as if it were a mere fad. I 
submit that it is a necessary consequence of deriving the Classifica- 
tion of Folk-lore from a psychological Analysis of Folk-life. For, as 


a matter of fact, the psychological analyses of the ablest psychologists 
and metaphysicians do always result in Triads. The analysis of our 
Faculties into Intellect, Emotion, and Will, is by no means a fad; 
nor is the analysis of a logical Proposition into three, and only three, 
elements a fad ; nor is it a fad that in all the processes of Thought a 
progression by triplets may be distinguished. And I remain, thus 
far at least, a Hegelian, that I believe that the logic of Thought is 
the logic of History; and that, with reference to Folk-lore par- 
ticularly, there will probably be something both incorrect in point of 
logic, and inadequate in point of fact, in any Classification of Folk- 
lore that does not conform to that Law of Triads which seems to 
result from every scientific Psychological Analysis. 

And now to return to what was said in the opening paragraph of 
this paper, and to conclude. It was pointed out that recent investiga- 
tions of the facts of Folk-life show that actual Folk-beliefs are by no 
means identical, as hitherto generally assumed, with the dominant 
Culture -beliefs ; that this false assumption of such an identity is 
chiefly due to a serious defect in Historical Method ; and that the 
result of this defect has been that we have hitherto had histories of 
Culture rather than histories of Society. This defect in Historical 
Method I said was to be remedied by the study of Folk-lore as the 
complement of the study of Culture-lore. It became necessary, then, 
to consider the nature and place of a Science of Folk-lore. Making 
its scope as wide as that of the Science which has been called by some 
French authors Demologie, I have defined it as the Classificatory 
Science, which is the adjunct of the Causal Science of Social Progress. 
We then proceeded to consider the principles of the Classification of 
Folk-lore. I endeavoured to show that they must be derived from 
the results of an Analysis of Folk-life. And the chief points of the 
Classification derived from such an Analysis were the following : 
First, the distinction between the Subjects of Folk-lore and the 
Records of Folk-lore. Secondly, the classification of the Subjects of 
Folk-lore as Folk-beliefs, Folk-passions, and Folk-traditions ; and of 
the Records of Folk-lore as Folk-customs, Folk-sayings, and Folk- 
poesies. And, thirdly, the further classification of Customs, as 


Festivals, Ceremonies, and Usages; of Sayings, as Prescriptions, 
Saws, and Forecasts ; and of Poesies, as Stories, Songs, and Sagas : 
and, as a still further principle of Classification, it was suggested that 
the contents of each of these Genera might be distinguished as 
Ccsmical, Social, and Ancestral. J. S. Stuart-Glennie. 


By Miss M. A. Courtney. 
{Continued from p. 132.) 

1st March. — In Mid-Cornwall, people arise before the sun is up, 
and sweep before the door to sweep away fleas. — (T. G. Couch, W» 
Antiquary, September, 1883.) 

5th March. — St. Piran's day is a miners' holiday. St, Piran is 
the patron saint of " tinners," and is popularly supposed to have died 
drunk. " As drunk as a Piraner " is a Cornish proverb." 

The first Friday in March is another miners' holiday, " Friday in 
Lide." It is marked by a serio-comic custom of sending a young 
man on the highest "bound," or hillock, of the "works," and allowing 
him to sleep there as long as he can, the length of his siesta being 
the measure of the afternoon nap of the " tinners " throughout the 
ensuing twelve months. — (T. G. Couch.) Lide is an obsolete term for 
the month of March still preserved in old proverbs, such as " Ducks 
won't lay 'till they've drunk Lide water." 

Holy Thursday. — On that Thursday, and the two following Thurs- 
days, girls in the neighbourhood of Roche, in East Cornwall, repair 
to his holy or wishing well before sunrise. They throw in crooked 
pins or pebbles, and, by the bubbles that rise to the surface, seek to 
ascertain whether their sweethearts will be true or false. There was 


once a cliapel near this well, "wbicli was then held in great repute for 
the cure of all kinds of diseases, and a granite figure of St. Roche 
stood on the arch of the building that still covers it. 

Good Friday was formerly kept more as a feast than a fast in 
Cornwall. Every vehicle was engaged days beforehand to take parties 
to some favourite place of resort in the neighbourhood, and labourers 
in inland parishes walked to' the nearest seaport to gather "wrinkles" 
(winkles), &c. 

On the morning of Good Friday at St. Constantine, in West 
Cornwall, an old custom is still observed of going to Helford river 
to gather shellfish (limpets, cockles, &c.); this river was once famous 
for oysters, and many were then bought and eaten on this day. 

'' Near Pad stow, in East Cornwall, is the tower of an old church 
dedicated to St. Constantine. In its vicinity the feast of St. Con- 
stantine used to be annually celebrated, and has only been discon- 
tinued of late years. Its celebration consisted in the destruction of 
limpet-pies, and service in the church, followed by a hurling match." 
— (Murray's Cornwall.) Another writer says : " The festival of St. 
Constantine " (March 9th) ^' was until very lately kept at St. 
Merran" (Constantine and Merran are now one parish) " by an annual 
hurling match, on which occasion the owner of Harlyn " (a house in 
the neighbourhood) had from time immemorial supplied the silver ball. 
We are informed, on good authority, that a shepherd's family, of the 
name of Edwards, held one of the cottages in Constantine for many 
generations under the owners of Harlyn by the annual render of a 
Cornish pie, made of limpets, raisins, and sweet herbs, on the feast 
of St. Constantine." — (Lysons' Magna Britannia.') 

At St. Day a fair was formerly held on Good Friday, now changed 
to Easter Monday. 

" On Good Friday, 1878, I saw a brisk fair going on in the little 
village of Perran Porth, Cornwall, not far from the curious oratory 
of St. Piran, known as Perranzabuloe." — (W. A. B. C, Notes and 
Queries, April 23rd, 1881.) 

But, although many still make this day a holiday, the churches are 
now much better attended. Good Friday cross-buns of many kinds 
are sold by the Cornish confectioners ; some, highly spiced, are eaten 


hot with butter and sugar; a commoner bun is simply washed over the 
top with saffron, and has a few currants stuck on it ; there is one 
peculiar, I believe, to Penzance, it is made of a rich currant paste 
highly coloured with saffron ; it is about an eighth of an inch thick, 
and four inches in diameter, and is marked with a large cross that 
divides it into four equal portions. 

" In some of our farmhouses the Good Friday bun may be seen 
hanging to a string from the bacon-rack, slowly diminishing until the 
return of the season replaces it by a fresh one. It is of sovereign 
good in all manners of diseases afflicting the family or cattle. I have 
more than once seen a little of this cake grated into a warm mash for 
a sick cow." — (T. G. Couch, Polperro.) There is a superstition that 
bread made on this day never grows mouldy. 

Many amateur gardeners sow their seeds on Good Friday ; super- 
stition says then they will all grow. 

Of a custom observed at Little Colan, in East Cornwall, on Palm 
Sunday, Carew says: " Little Colan is not worth observation, unlesse 
you will deride or pity their simpUcity, who sought at our Lady 
Nant's well there to foreknowe what fortune should betide them, 
which was in this manner. Upon Palm Sunday these idle-headed 
seekers resorted thither with a Palme cross in one hand and an offrins: 
in the other. The offring fell to the Priest's share, the crosse they 
threwe into the well ; which if it swamme the party should outline 
the yeere ; if it sunk a short ensuing death was boded ; and perhaps 
not altogether vn timely, while a foolish conceite of this ' halsening ' 
myght the sooner helpe it onwards." 

On Easter Monday at Penzance it was the custom within the last 
twenty years to bring out in the lower part of the town, before the 
doors, tables, on which were placed thick gingerbread cakes with 
raisins in them, cups and saucers, &c., to be raffled for with cups and 
dice, called here " Lilly-bangers." Fifty years since a man, nick- 
named Harry Martillo, with his wife, the " lovelee," always kept one 
of these '' lilly-banger stalls " at Penzance on market day. He would 
call attention to his gaming-table by shouting — 

" I've been in Europe, Ayshee, Afrikee, and Amerikee, 
And came back and married the lovelee." 


I have heard that both used tobacco in three ways, and indulged 
freely in runi, also " tom-trot " (hardbake), strongly flavoured with 
peppermint. Of course a lively market would influence the dose, and 
as for ''lovelee," it must have been in Harry's partial eyes. — (H.K.C.) 

" Upon little Easter Sunday, the freeholders of the towne and 
mannour of Lostwithiel, by themselves or their deputies, did there 
assemble, amongst whom one (as it fell to his lot by turne), bravely 
apparelled, gallantly mounted, with a crowne on his head, a scepter 
in his hand, a sword borne before him, and dutifully attended by all 
the rest also on horseback, ride thorow the principal streets to the 
Church; there the Curate in his best ' beseene^ solemne receiud him 
at the Church-yard stile, and conducted him to heare diuine seruice ; 
after which he repaired with the same pompe to a house foreprouided 
for that purpose, made a feast to his attendants, kept the table's end 
himselfe, and was serued with kneeling, assay, and all other rites due 
to the estate of a Prince ; with which dinner the ceremony ended, and 
every man returned home again." — (Carew.) 

The ancient custom of choosing a mock mayor was observed at 
Lostwithiel, on 10th October, 1884, by torchlight, in the presence of 
nearly a thousand people. The origin of both these customs is now 
quite forgotten. 

April 1st. The universal attempts at fooling on this day are 
carried on in Cornwall as elsewhere, and children are sent by their 
schoolfellows for penn'orths of pigeons' milk, memory powder, strap- 
oil, &c., or with a note telling the receiver "to send the fool farther." 
When one boy succeeds in taking in another, he shouts after him. 
Fool ! fool ! the " guckaw " (cuckoo). 

Towednack's (a village near St. Ives) "Cuckoo" or ''Crowder" 
feast is on the nearest Sunday to the 28th April. Tradition accounts 
for the first name by the story of a man there who once gave a feast 
-on an inclement day in the end of April. To warm his guests he 
threw some faggots on the fire (or some furze-bushes), when a cuckoo 
flew out of them, calling " Cuckoo ! cuckoo ! " It was caught and 
kept, and he resolved every year to invite his friends to celebrate the 
event. This, too, is said to be the origin of the feast. 

" Crowder " in Cornwall means a fiddler, and the fiddle is called a 

AND '' FEASTEN" customs. 225 

"■ crowd." In former days the parishioners of Towednack were met at 
the church door on "feasten" day by a "crowder," who, playing on 
his *' crowd," headed a procession through the village street, hence its 
second name. 

The only May-pole now erected in Cornwall is put up on April 
30th, at Hugh Town, St. Mary's, Scilly. Girls dance around it on 
May-day with garlands of flowers on their heads, or large wreaths of 
flowers from shoulder to waist. In the beginning of this century, 
boys and girls in Cornwall sat up until twelve o'clock on the eve 
of May-day, and then marched around the towns and villages with 
musical instruments, collecting their friends to go a-maying. May- 
day is ushered in at Penzance by the discordant blowing of large tin 
horns. At daybreak, and even earlier, parties of boys, five or six in 
number, assemble at the street corners, from whence they perambulate 
the town blowing their horns and conchshells. They enter the 
gardens of detached houses, stop and bray under the bedroom windows, 
and beg for money. With what they collect they go into the country, 
and at one of the farmhouses they breakfast on bread and clotted 
cream, junket, &c. An additional ring of tin (a penn'orth) is added 
to his horn every year that a boy uses it. 

Formerly, on May morn, if the boys succeeded in fixing a ^' May 
bough " over a farmer's door before he was up, he was considered 
bound to give them their breakfasts ; and in some parts of the county, 
should the first comer bring with him a piece of well-opened haw- 
thorn, he was entitled to a basin of cream. 

*' In West Cornwall it is the custom to hang a piece of furze to a 
door early in the morning of May-day. At breakfast-time the one 
who does this appears and demands a piece of bread and cream with 
a basin of * raw-milk ' (milk that has not been scalded and the cream 
taken off)- 

" In Landrake, East Cornwall, it was the custom to give the person 
who plucked a fern as much cream as would cover it. It was also a 
practice there to chastise with stinging nettles any one found in bed 
after six on May-morning."'^(Rev. S. Rundle, Vicar, Godolphin.) 

Young shoots of sycamore, as well as white thorn, are known as 

Vol. 4.--PART 3. Q 


May in Cornwall, and from green twigs of the former and from green 
stalks of wheaten corn the children of this county make a rude whistle, 
which they call a " feeper." 

Until very lately parties of young men and women rose betimes on 
May-day and went into the country to breakfast; going " a junk cit- 
ing " in the evening has not yet been discontinued. 

At Hayle, on May-day (1883), as usual, groups of children, deco- 
rated with flowers and gay with fantastic paper-clothes, went singing 
through the streets. In the evening bonfires were lit in various parts 
of the town, houses were illuminated with cfl.ndles, torches and fireballs 
burnt until a late hour. The last is a new and dangerous plaything : 
a ball of tow or rags is saturated with petroleum, set fire to, and then 
kicked from one place to another ; it leaves a small track of burning 
oil wherever it goes. 

" On May-morning, in Polperro, the children and even adults go out 
into the country and fetch home branches of the narrow-leaved elm, 
or flowering boughs of white thorn, both of which are called ' May.' 
At a later hour all the boys sally forth with bucket, can, or other 
vessel, and avail themselves of a licence which the season confers — to 
* dip ' or wellnigh drown, without regard to person or circumstance, 
the passenger who has not the protection of a piece of ' May ' con- 
spicuously stuck in his dress ; at the same time they sing, * The first 
of May is Dipping-day.' This manner of keeping May-day is, I have 
heard, common in Cornwall. We are now favoured with a call from 
the boy with his pretty garland, gay with bright flowers and gaudily- 
painted birds'-eggs, who expects some little gratuity for the sight." 
— (T. G. Couch.) 

*' 1st of May you must take down all the horse-shoes (that are nailed 
over doors to keep out witches, &c.) and turn them, not letting them 
touch the ground."^(01d Farmer, Mid Cornwall, through T. G. Couch, 
W. Antiquary y September, 1883.) 

May-day at Padstow is Hobbyhorse-day. A hobby-horse is carried 
through the streets to a pool known as Traitor's-pool, a quarter of a 
mile out of the town. Here it is supposed to drink : the head is 
dipped into the water, which is freely sprinkled over the spectators. 


Tlie procession returns home, singing a song to commemorate tlie 
tradition that the French, having landed in the bay, mistook a party 
of mummers in red cloaks for soldiers, hastily fled to their boats and 
rowed away. 

" The May-pole on the first of May at Padstow has only been dis- 
continued within the last six or eight years (1883). It was erected in 
connection with the * Hobbyhorse '-festival by the young men of the 
town, who on the last eve of April month would go into the country, 
cut a quantity of blooming yellow furze, and gather the flowers tlien 
in season, make garlands of the same ; borrow the largest spar they 
could get from the shipwright's yard, dress it up with the said furze 
and garlands, with a flag or two on the top, and hoist the pole in a 
conspicuous part of the town, when the * Mayers,' male and female, 
would dance around it on that festival-day, singing — 

And strew all your flowers, for summer is come in to-day. 
It is but a while ago since we have strewed ours 
In the merry morning of May,' &c. 

" The Maypole was allowed to remain up from a week to a fortnight, 
when it was taken down, stripped, and the pole retunied." — (Henry 
Harding, Padstow, W, Antiquary , August, 1883.) 

Formerly all the respectable people at Padstow kept this anni- 
versary, decorated with the choicest flowers ; but some unlucky day a 
number of rough characters from a distance joined in it, and com- 
mitted some sad assaults upon old and young, spoiling all their nice 
summer clothes, and covering their faces and persons with smut. 
From that time — fifty years since— (1865) the procession is formed 
of the lowest. 

The May-pole was once decorated with the best flowers, now with 
only some elm-branches and furze in blossom. The horse is formed as 
follows ; The dress is made of sackcloth painted black — a fierce 
mask — eyes red, horse's head, horse-hair mane and tail ; distended by 
a hoop — some would call it frightful. Carried by a powerful man, he 
could inflict much mischief with the snappers, &c. No doubt it is a 
remnant of the ancient plays, and it represents the devil, or the power 
of darkness. They commence singing at sunrise^ 



The Moening Song. 

Unite and unite, and let us all unite, 

For summer it is comen to-day ; 
And whither we are going we all will unite, 

In the merry morning of May. 

Arise up, Mr. , and joy you betide, 

For summer is comen to-day ; 
And bright is your bride that lays by your side, 

In the merry morning of May. 

Arise up, Mrs. , and gold be your ring, 

For summer is comen to-day ; 
And give to us a cup of ale, the merrier we shall sing 

In the merry morning of May. 

Arise up. Miss , all in your smock of silk, 

For summer is comen to-day ; 
And all your body under as white as any milk, 

In the merry morning of May. 

The young men of Padstow might if they would. 

For summer is comen to-day ; 
They might have built a ship and gilded her with gold, 

In the merry morning of May. 

Now fare you well, and we bid you good cheer, 

For summer is comen to-day ; 
He will come no more unto your house before another year. 

In the merry morning of May. 

(George Rawlings, September 1st, 1865, through E. Hunt, F.R.S., 
DroleSj ^c, Old Cornwall.) 

Mr. Rawlings all through his song has written " For summer has 
come unto day," but this is clearly a mistake. He also gives another 
which he calls the " May-song," but it is not as well worth tran- 
scribing : it bears in some parts a slight resemblance to that sung at 
the Helston Hal-an-tow. See page 231. 

In East Cornwall they have a custom of bathing in the sea on the 
three first Sunday mornings in May. And in West Cornwall children 
were taken before sunrise on those days to the holy wells, notably to 
that of St. Maddern (Madron) near Penzance, to be there dipped 


into the running water that they might be cared of the rickets and 
other childish disorders. After being stripped naked they were 
plunged three times into the water, the parents facing the sun, and 
passed round the well nine times from east to west. They were 
then dressed, and laid by the side of the well to sleep in the sun ; 
should they do so and the water bubble it was considered a good sign. 
Not a word was to be spoken the whole time for fear of breaking 
the spell. 

A small piece torn (not cut) from the child's clothes was hung for 
luck (if possible out of sight) on a thorn which grew out of the 
chapel wall. Some of these bits of rag may still sometimes be found, 
fluttering on- the neighbouring bushes. I knew two well-educated 
people who in 1840, having a son who could not walk at the age of 
two, carried him and dipped him in Madron well, a distance of three 
miles from their home, on the two first Sundays in May ; but on the 
third the father refused to go. Some authorities say this well should 
be visited on the first three Wednesdays in May ; as was for the same 
purpose another holy well at Chapel Euny (or St. Uny) near 

The Wesleyans hold an open-air service on the first three Sunday 
afternoons in May, at a ruined chapel near to Madron-well, in the 
south wall of which a hole may be seen, through which the water from 
the well runs into a small baptistry in the south-west comer. 

Parties of young girls to this day walk there in May to try for 
sweethearts. Crooked pins, or small heavy things, are dropped into the 
well in couples ; if they keep together the pair will be married ; the 
number of bubbles they make in falling shows the time that will elapse 
before the event. Sometimes two pieces of straw formed into a cross, 
fastened in the centre by a pin, were used in these divinations. An 
old woman who lived in a cottage at a little distance formerly 
frequented the well and instructed visitors how to work the charms ; 
she was never paid in money, but small presents were placed where 
she could find them. Pilgrims from all parts of England centuries 
ago resorted to St. Maddern's well : that was famed, as was also her 
grave, for many miraculous cures. The late Kev. R. S. Hawkery 


Vicar of Morwenstow, in East Cornwall, published a poem, called "The 
Doom Well of St. Madron," on one of the ancient legends connected 
with it. 

" A respectable tradesman's wife in Launceston tells me that the 
townspeople here say that a swelling in the neck may be cured by the 
patients going before sunrise on the first of May to the grave of the 
last young man (if the patient be a woman), to that of the last young 
woman (if a man) who had been buried in the churchyard, and applying 
the dew, gathered by passing the hand three times from the head to 
the foot of the grave, to the part affected by the ailment. I may as 
well add that the common notion of improving the complexion by 
washing the face with the early dew in the fields on the first of May 
prevails in these parts (East Cornwall), and they say that a child who 
is weak in the back may be cured by drawing him over the grass wet 
with the morning dew. The experiment must be thrice performed, 
that is, on the mornings of the 1st, 2nd, and 3rd of May." — (H. G. T., 
Notes and Queries, 14th December, 1850.) 

The 8th of May is at Helston given up to pleasure, and is known 
as Flora-day, Flurry-day, Furry-day, and Faddy. To " fade " meant in 
old English to dance from country to town. A legend says this day 
was set apart to commemorate a fight between the devil and St. 
Michael, in which the first was defeated. The name Helston has been 
fancifully derived from a large block of granite which until 1783 was 
to be seen in the yard of the Angel hotel, the principal inn of the 
place. This was the stone that sealed Hell's mouth, and the devil 
was carrying it when met by St. Michael. Why he should have 
burdened himself with such a "large pebble" (as Cornish miners call 
all stones) is quite unknown. The fight and overthrow are figured on 
the town-seal. 

The week before Flora-day is in Helston devoted to the " spring- 
clean," and every house is made " as bright as a new pin," and the 
gardens stripped of their flowers to adorn them. 

The revelry begins at day-break, when the men and maidservants 
with their friends go into the country to breakfast ; these are the 
" Hal-an-tow," They return about eight, laden with green boughs. 


preceded by a drum and singing an old song, the first verses of which 
run thus : — 

" Robin Hood and Little John 
They both are gone to fair, ! 
And we will to the merry greenwood 
To see what they do there, ! 
And for to chase — O ! 
To chase the buck and doe. 

He/rain— With. Hal-an-tow ! Rumbelow ! 
For we up as soon as any ! 
And for to fetch the summer home, 
The summer and the May O I 
For summer is acome O I 
And winter is agone O ! 

The whole of the song may be found with the music in Specimens 
of Cornish Provincial Dialect, by Uncle Jan, Trewoodle. (Sandys.) 

The Hal-an-tow are privileged to levy contributions on strangers 
coming into the town. 

Early in the morning merry peals are rung on the church-bells, 
and at nine a prescriptive holiday is demanded by the boys at the 
grammar-school. At noon the principal inhabitants and visitors 
dance through the town. The dancers start from the market-house, 
going through the streets ; in at the front doors of the houses that 
have been left open for them, ringing every bell and knocking at every 
knocker, and out at the back, but if more convenient they dance 
around the garden, or even around a room, and return through the 
door by which they entered. Sometimes the procession files in at one 
shop-door, dances through that department and out through another, 
and in one place descends into a cellar. All the main streets are 
thus traversed, and a circuit is made of the bowling-green, which at 
one end is the extreme limit of the town. Two beadles, their wands 
wreathed with flowers, and a band with a gaily-decorated drum, head 
the procession, The dance ends with '' hands across" at the assembly 
room of the Angel hotel, where there is always a ball in the evening. 
Now dancers are admitted to this room by a small payment (which 
must be a silver coin), paid as they go up the stairs either to the land- 
lord or a gentleman who stands on each side of the door. The 



gentleman dancers on entering pay for their partners, and by established 
custom, should they be going to attend the evening ball, they are 
bound to give them their tickets, gloves, and the first dance. The 
tradespeople have their dance at a later hour, and their ball at 
another hotel. 

The figure of the Furry dance, performed to a very lively measure, 
is extremely simple. To the first half of the tune the couples dance 
along hand-in-hand ; at the second the first gentleman turns the 
second lady and the second gentleman the first. This change is made 
all down the set. Kepeat. 

I have appended the tune, to which children have adopted the 
following doggerel : — 




-f_J C^ gE^ g 


^4-^ ^ 


" John the bone (beau) was walking home, 
When he met with Sally Dover, 
He kissed her once, he kissed her twice, 
And he kissed her three times over." 

Some writers have made the mistake of imagining that the tune 
sung to the Hal-an-tow and the Furry dance are the same. 

Formerly, should any person in Helston be found at work on Flora- 
day, he was set astride on a pole, then carried away on men's shoulders 
to a wide part of the Cober (a stream which empties itself into Love- 
pool close by), and sentenced to leap over it. As it was almost impos- 
sible to do this without jumping into the water, the punishment was 
remitted by the payment of a small fine towards the day's amuse- 
ment. Others say the offender was first made to jump the Gober 
and then set astride on a pole to dry. 

In many of the villages around Helston the children, on Flora-day, 
deck themselves with large wreaths, which they wear over one 
shoulder and under the other arm ; and at Porthleven I observed, in 


1884, in addition to these wreaths, several children with large white 
handkerchiefs arranged as wimples, kept on their heads with garlands 
of flowers. 

One of the first objects on entering the village of St. Germans 
(East Cornwall) is the large walnut-tree, at the foot of what is called 
Nut-tree Hill. Many a gay May-fair has been witnessed by the old 
tree. In the morning of the 28th of the month splendid fat cattle 
from some of the largest and best farms in the county quietly chewed 
the cud around its trunk ; in the afternoon the basket-swing dangled 
from its branches filled with merry, laughing boys and girls from 
every part of the parish. On the following day the mock mayor, who 
had been chosen with many formalities, remarkable only for their 
rude and rough nature, starting from some '* bush-house " where he 
had been supping too freely of the fair-ale, was mounted on wain or 
cart, and drawn around it, to claim his pretended jurisdiction over the 
ancient borough, until his successor was chosen at the following fair. 
Leaving the nut-tree, which is a real ornament to the town, we pass 
by a stream of water running into a large trough, in which many a 
country lad has been drenched for daring to enter the town on the 
29th of May without the leaf or branch of oak in his hat. — (R. Hunt, 
F.K.S., Drolls, ^c. Old Cornwall.) 

The wrestlers of Cornwall and their wrestling-matches are still 
famous, and in the May of 1868 4,000 assembled one day and 3,000 
the next to see one. The wrestlers of this county have a peculiar 
grip, called by them " the Cornish-hug." 

Any odd, foolish game is in West Cornwall called a May-game 
(pronounced May-gum), also a person who acts foolishly ; and you fre- 
quently hear the expression — " He's a reg'lar May-gum ! " There is 
a proverb that says—" Don't make mock of a May-gum, you may be 
struck comical yourself one day." 

Whit-Sunday. — It was formerly considered very unlucky in Corn- 
wall to go out on this day without putting on some new thing. 
Children were told that should they do so " the birds would foul 
them as they walked along." A new ribbon, or even a shoe-lace, 
would be sufficient to protect them. Whit-Sunday is generally kept 
as a holiday, and is often made an excuse for another country excur- 


sion, which, if taken in the afternoon, ends at some farm-house with 
a tea of Cornish "heavy-cream cake," and clotted-cream in the 
evening, with a junket. 

Carew speaks of a feast kept in his time on Whit-Monday at the 
" Church-house " of the different parishes called a " Church-ale." It 
was a sort of large picnic, for which money had been previously 
collected by two young men — " wardens," who had been previously 
appointed the preceding year by their last " foregoers." This custom 
has long ceased to exist. 

The Wesleyans (Methodists) in Cornwall hold an open-air service 
on Whit-Monday at Gwennap-pit. The pit is an old earth-round; 
excavated in the hill-side of Carn Marth, about three miles from the 
small village of Gwennap, and one from Redruth. This amphitheatre, 
which is then usually filled, is capable of holding from four to five 
thousand people, and is in shape like a funnel. It is encircled from 
the bottom to the top with eighteen turf-covered banks, made by 
cutting the earth into steps. It is admirably adapted for sound, and 
the voice of the preacher, who stands on one side, about half way up, 
is distinctly heard by the whole congregation. Wesley, when on a 
visit to Cornwall, preached in Gwennap-pit to the miners of that 
district, and this was the origin of the custom. Many excursion- 
trains run to Redruth on Whit-Monday, and a continuous string of 
vehicles of every description, as well as pedestrians, may be seen 
wending their way from the station to the pit, which is almost sur- 
rounded by "downs," and in a road close by rows of "standings" 
(stalls) are erected for the sale of " fairings." An annual pleasure-fair 
goes on at the same time at Redruth, and many avail themselves of the 
excursion-trains who have not the least intention of attending the 
religious service. 

" In Mid-Cornwall, in the second week of June, at St. Roche and 
in one or two adjacent parishes, a curious dance is performed at their 
annual ' feasts.' It enjoys the rather undignified name of ' Snails' 
creep,' but would be more properly called ' The Serpent's Coil.' 

" The following is scarcely a perfect description of it : — The young 
people being all assembled in a large meadow, the village band strikes 
up a simple but lively air^ and marches forward, followed by the 


whole assemblage, leading hand-in-hand (or more closely linked in 
case of engaged couples), the whole keeping time to the tune with a 
lively step. The band or head of the serpent keeps marching in an 
ever-narrowing circle, whilst its train of dancing followers becomes 
coiled around it in circle after circle. It is now that the most 
interesting part of the dance commences, for the band, taking a sharp 
turn about, begins to retrace the circle, still followed as before, and a 
number of young men with long, leafy branches in their hands as 
standards, direct this counter-movement with almost military preci- 
sion."— (W. C. Wade, W. Anttquanj, April, 1881.) 

A game similar to the above dance is often played by Sunday- 
school children in West Cornwall, at their out-of-door summer-treats, 
called by them " roll-tobacco." They join hands in one long line, the 
taller children at the head. The first child stands still, whilst the 
others in ever-narrowing circles dance around singing, until they are 
coiled into a tight mass. The outer coil then wheels sharply in a 
contrary direction, followed by the remainder retracing their steps. 

23rd of June. In the afternoon of Midsummer-eve little girls may 
be still occasionally met in the streets of Penzance with garlands of 
flowers on their heads, or wreaths over one shoulder. 

This was, within the last fifty years, generally observed in West 
Cornwall. And in all the streets of our towns and villages, groups 
of graceful girls, rich as well as poor, all dressed in white, their 
frocks decorated with rows of laurel-leaves ("often spangled with 
gold-leaf " — Bottrell), might in the afternoon have been seen standing 
at the doors, or in the evening dancing along with their brothers or 

In Penzance, and in nearly all the parishes of West Penwith, im- 
mediately after nightfall on the eves of St. John and St. Peter, the 
23rd and 28th of June, lines of tar-barrels, occasionally broken by 
bonfires, were simultaneously lighted in all the streets, whilst, at the 
same time, bonfires were kindled on all the barns and hills around 
Mount's Bay, throwing the outlines in bold relief against the sky. 
Then the villagers, linked in circles hand-in-hand, danced round them 
to preserve themselves against witchcraft, and, when they burnt low, 
one person here and there detached himself from the rest and leaped 


through the flames to insure himself from some special evil. The old 
people counted these fires and drew a presage from them. — (Bottrell.) 
Kegularly at dusk the mayor of Penzance sent the town-crier 
through the streets to give notice that no fireworks were allowed to 
be let off in the town ; but this was done simply that he should not 
be held responsible if any accident happened, for he and all in Pen- 
zance knew quite well that the law would be set at defiance. Large 
numbers of men, women, and boys came up soon after from the quay 
and lower parts of the town swinging immense torches around their 
heads; these torches (locally known as "to'ches") were made of pieces 
of canvas about two feet square, dipped until completely saturated in 
tar, fastened in the middle either to a long pole or a strong chain. 
Of course they required to be swung with great dexterity or the holder 
would have been burnt. The heat they gave out was something 
dreadful, and the smoke suffocating. Most of the inhabitants dressed 
in their oldest clothes congregated in groups in the street, and a great 
part of the fun of the evening consisted in slyly throwing squibs 
amongst them, or in dispersing them by chasing them with hand- 
rockets. The greatest good humour always prevailed, and although 
the revellers were thickest in a small square surrounded by houses, 
some of them thatched, very few accidents have ever happened. A 
band stationed here played popular airs at intervals. No set-pieces 
were ever put off, but there were a few Roman-candles. Between ten 
and eleven a popular mayor might often have been seen standing in 
the middle of this square (the Green Market), encircled by about a 
dozen young men, each holding a lighted hand-rocket over the 
mayor's head. The sparks which fell around him on all sides made 
him look as if he stood in the centre of a fountain of fire. The pro- 
ceedings finished by the boys and girls from the quay, whose torches 
had by this time expired, dancing in a long line hand in hand through 
the streets, in and out and sometimes over the now low burning tar- 
barrels, crying out, " An eye, an eye." At this shout the top couple 
held up their arms, and, beginning with the last, the others ran under 
them, thus reversing their position. A year or two ago, owing to the 
increasing traffic at Penzance, the practice of letting off squibs and 
crackers in the streets was formally abolished by order of the mayor 


and corporation. Efiforts are still made and money collected for the 
purpose of reviving it with some little success ; but the Green Market 
is no longer the scene of the fun. A few boys still after dusk swing 
their torches, and here and there some of the old inhabitants keep up 
the custom of lighting tar-barrels or bonfires before their doors. A 
rite called the Bonfire Test was formerly celebrated on this night. 
Mr. E. Hunt, F.R.S., has described it in his Drolls, ^c. Old Corn- 
wall ;— " A bonfire is formed of faggots of furze, ferns, and the like. 
Men and maidens, by locking hands, form a circle, and commence a 
dance to some wild native song. At length, as the dancers become 
excited, they pull each other from side to side across the fire. If they 
succeed in treading out the fire without breaking the chain, none of 
the party will die during the year. If, however, the ring is broken 
before the fire is extinguished, ' bad luck to the weak hands,' as my 
informant said (1865). All the witches in West Cornwall used to 
meet at midnight on Midsummer-eve at Trewa (pronounced Troway), 
in the parish of Zennor, and around the dying fires renewed their vows 
to their master, the Devil. Zennor boasts of some of the finest coast 
scenery in Cornwall, and many remarkable rocks were scattered about 
in this neighbourhood ; several of them (as does the cromlech) still 
remain, but others have been quarried and carted away, amongst 
them one known as "Witches' Rock, which if touched nine times at 
midnight kept away ill-luck, and prevented people from being ''over- 
looked (ill-wished)." 

On Midsummer-day (June 24th) two pleasure fairs are held in 
Cornwall : one at Pelynt, in the eastern part of the county, where in 
the evening, from time immemorial, a large bonfire has been always 
lighted in an adjoining field by the boys of the neighbourhood (some 
writers fix on the summer solstice as the date of Pelynt fair, but this, 
I believe, is an error) ; and the second on the old quay at Penzance. 
It is called " Quay Fair," to distinguish it from Corpus Christi fair, 
another and much larger one held at the other extremity of the town, 
and which lasts from the eve of Corpus Christi until the following 
Saturday. Quay fair was formerly crowded by people from the neigh- 
bouring inland towns and villages ; their principal amusement was to 
go out for a short row, a great number in one boat, the boatmen 


charging a penny a head. This was taking a " Pen'nord of Say." 
When not paid for, a short row is a " Troil." (Troil is old-Cornish 
for a feast.) 

Although this fair has not yet been discontinued, the number of 
those attending it grows less and less every year, and not enough 
money is taken to encourage travelling showmen to set up their 
booths. The old charter allowed the publichouses at the quay to keep 
open all night on the 24th of June, but such is no longer the case. 
Quay fair was sometimes known as Strawberry fair, and thirty years 
ago many strawberries were sold at it for twopence a quart. They 
were not brought to market in pottles, but in large baskets containing 
some gallons, and were measured out to the customers in a tin pint or 
quart measure. They were eaten from cabbage-leaves. Before the 
end of the day, unless there were a brisk sale, the fruit naturally got 
much bruised. They are still sold in the same way, but are not 
nearly as plentiful. Many of the strawberry fields, through which 
public footpaths often went, have been turned up, and are now used 
for growing early potatoes. On St. John's day Cornish miners place 
a green bough on the shears of the engine-houses in commemoration 
of his preaching in the wilderness. 

This day is with Cornish as with other maidens a favourite one for 
trying old love-charms. Some of them rise betimes, and go into the 
country to search for an even "leafed" ash, or an even "leafed" 
clover. When found the rhymes they repeat are common to all 

An old lady, a native of Scilly, once gave me a most graphic 

description of her mother and aunt laying a table just before midnight 

on St. John's day, with a clean white cloth, knives and forks, and 

bread and cheese, to see if they should marry the men to whom they 

were engaged. They sat down to it, keeping strict silence — 

" For, if a word had been S]:ioken, 
The spell would have been broken." 

As the clock struck twelve the door, which had purposely been left 
unbarred, opened, and their two lovers walked in, having, as they met 
outside, both been compelled by irresistible curiosity to go and see 
if there were anything the matter with their sweethearts. 



It never entered the old lady's head that the men probably had an 
inkling of what was going on, and to have hinted that such was the 
case would, I am quite sure, have given dire offence. 

The following charm is from the W. Antiquary : — Pluck a rose at 
midnight on St. John's day, wear it to church, and your intended will 
take it out of your button-hole. — (Old Farmer, Mid- Cornwall, through 
T. G. Couch.) 

In connection with midsummer bonfires, I mentioned those on St. 
Peter's eve; although they are no longer lighted at Penzance, the 
custom (never confined to West Cornwall) is in other places still 
observed. Many of the churches in the small fishing villages on the 
coast are dedicated to this saint, the patron of fishermen, and on 
his tide the towers of these churches were formerly occasionally 

On St. Peter's eve, at Newlyn West, in 1883, many of the men 
were away fishing on the east coast of England, and the celebration 
of the festival was put off until their return, when it took place with 
more than usual rejoicings. The afternoon was given up to aquatic 
sports, and in the evening, in addition to the usual bonfires and 
tar-barrels, squibs and hand and sky-rockets were let off. The young 
people finished the day with an open-air dance, which ended before 
twelve. In this village effigies of objectionable characters, after they 
have been carried through the streets, are sometimes burnt in the 
St. Peter's bonfire. I have often in Cornwall heard red-haired people 
described " as looking as if they were born on bonfire night." At 
Wendron, and many other small inland mining villages, the boys at 
St. Peter's-tide fire off miniature rock batteries called *' plugs." 

I must now again quote from Mr. T. G. Couch, and give his account 
of how this day is observed at Polperro. 

" The patron saint of Polperro is St. Peter, to whom the church, 
built on the seaward hill (still called chapel hill) was dedicated. His 
festival is kept on the 10th of July (old style). At Peter's-tide is our 
annual feast or fair. Though a feeble and insignificant matter, it is 
still with the young the great event of the year. On the eve of the fair 
is the prefatory ceremony of a bonfire. The young fishermen go from 
house to house and beg money to defray the expenses. At nightfall 


a large pile of faggots and tar-barrels is built on the beach, and, amid 
the cheers of a congregated crowd of men, women, and children (for 
it is a favour never denied to children to stay up and see the bonfire), 
the pile is lighted. The fire blazes up, and men and boys dance 
merrily round it, and keep up the sport till the fire burns low enough, 
when they venturously leap throngh the flames. It is a most 
animated scene, the whole valley lit up by the bright red glow, 
bringing into strong relief front and gable of picturesque old houses, 
each window crowded with eager and delighted faces, while around 
the fire is a crowd of ruddy lookers-on, shutting in a circle of impish 
figures leaping like salamanders through the flames. 

" The next day the fair begins, a trivial matter, except to the 
children, who are dressed in their Sunday clothes, and to the village 
girls in their best gowns and gaudiest ribbons. Stalls, or * stand- 
ings,' laden with fairings, sweetmeats, and toys, line the lower part 
of Lansallos Street, near the strand. There are, besides, strolling 
Thespians ; fellows who draw unwary youths into games of hazard, 
where the risk is mainly on one side ; ballad-singers ; ^;e?iw?/-^6ep 
men, who show and describe to wondering boys the most horrid 
scenes of the latest murder; jugglers and tumblers also display their 
skill. In the neighbouring inn the fiddler plays his liveliest tunes at 
twopence a reel, which the swains gallantly pay. The first day of the 
fair is merely introductory, for the excitement is rarely allayed under 
three. The second day is much livelier than the first, and has for its 
great event the wrestling -match on the strand, or perhaps a boat-race. 
On the third day we have the mayor-choosing, never a valid ceremony, 
but a broad burlesque. The person who is chosen to this post of 
mimic dignity is generally some half-witted or drunken fellow, who, 
tricked out in tinsel finery, elects his staff of constables, and these, 
armed with staves, accompany his chariot (some jowter's (huckster's) 
cart, dressed with green boughs) through the town, stopping at each 
inn, where he makes a speech full of large promises to his listeners, 
of full work, better wages, and a liberal allowance of beer during his 
year of mayoralty. He then demands a quart of the landlord's ale, 
which is gauged with mock ceremony, and if adjudged short of 
measure is, after being emptied, broken on the wheel of the car. 


Having completed the perambulation of the town, his attendants often 
make some facetious end of the pageant by wheeling the mayor in his 
chariot with some impetus into the tide." — Polperro, 1871, pp. 156-159. 

The ceremony of choosing a mock mayor was also observed at 
Penryn (near Falmouth), but it took place in the autumn, on a day 
in September or October, when hazel-nuts were ripe, and " nutting 
day " was kept by the children and poor people. The journeyman 
tailors went from Penryn and Falmouth to My lor parish, on the 
opposite side of the river Fal. There they made choice of the 
wittiest amongst them to fill that office. His title was the " Mayor 
of Mylor." When chosen, he was borne in a chair upon the shoulders 
of four strong men from his "goode towne of Mylor" to his " anciente 
borough of Penryn." He was preceded by torch-bearers and two 
town-sergeants, in gowns and cocked hats, with cabbages instead of 
maces, and surrounded by a guard armed with staves. Just outside 
Penryn he was met with a band of music, which played him into the 
town. The procession halted at the town-hall, where the mayor made 
a burlesque speech, often a clever imitation of the phrases and 
manners of their then sitting parliamentary representative. This 
speech was repeated with variations before the different inns, the 
landlords of which were expected to provide the mayor and his 
numerous attendants liberally with beer. The day's proceedings 
finished with a dinner at one of the public-houses in Penryn. Bon- 
fires, &c., were lighted, and fireworks let off" soon after dusk. It was 
popularly supposed that this choosing of a mock mayor was per- 
mitted by a clause in the town charter. 

A festival, supposed to have been instituted in honour of Thomus- 
a-Becket, called " Bodmin-Riding," was (although shorn of its former 
importance) until very recently held there on the first Monday and 
Tuesday after the 7th of July. 

In the beginning of this century all the tradespeople of the town, 
preceded by music and carrying emblems of their trades, walked in 
procession to the Priory. They were headed by two men, one with a 
garland and the other with a pole, which they presented and received 
back again from the master of the house as the then representative 

Vol. 4.— Part 3. r 


of the Prior. Mr. T. G. Couch had the following description of this 
ceremony from those who took part in its latest celebration: — 

'^ A puncheon of beer having been brewed in the previous October, 
and duly bottled in anticipation of the time, two or more young men, 
who were entrusted with the chief management of the affair, and 
who represented * the wardens ' of Carew's Church-ales, went round 
the town (Bodmin) attended by a band of drummers and fifers, or 
other instruments. The crier saluted each house with — ' To the 
people of this house, a prosperous morning, long life, health, and a 
merry riding.' The musicians then struck up the riding-tune, a 
quick and inspiriting measure, said by some to be as old as the feast 
itself. The householder was solicited to taste the riding-ale, which 
was carried round in baskets. A bottle was usually taken in, and it 
was acknowledged by such a sum as the means or humour of the 
townsmen permitted, to be spent on the public festivities of the 
season. Next morning a procession was formed (all who could afford 
to ride mounted on horse or ass, smacking long-lashed whips), first to 
the Priory to receive two large garlands of flowers fixed on staves, 
and then in due order to the principal streets to the town-end, where 
the games were formally opened. The sports, which lasted two days, 
were of the ordinary sort — wrestling, foot-racing, jumping in sacks, 
&c. It is worthy of remark that a second or inferior brewing from 
the same wort was drunk at a minor merry-making at Whitsuntide." 
— (Popular Antiquities, Journal Royal Institute of Cornwall, 1864.) 

In former days the proceedings ended in a servants'-ball, at which 
dancing was kept up until the next morning's breakfast-hour. 

A very curious carnival was originally held under a Lord of Mis- 
rule, in July, on Halgaver Moor, near Bodmin, thus quaintly described 
by Carew : — 

"The youthlyer sort of Bodmin townsmen vse to sport themselves by 
playing the box with strangers whom they summon to Halgauer. The 
name signifieth the Goat's Moore, and such a place it is, lying a little 
without the towne, and very full of quanemires. When these mates 
meet with any rawe seruing-man or other young master, who may 
serue and deserue to make pastime, they cause him to be solemnely 


arrested, for his appearance before the Maior of Halgauer, where he 
is charged with wearing one spurre, or going vntrussed, or wanting a 
girdle, or some such felony. After he had been arraygned and tryed, 
with all requisite circumstances, iudgement is given in formal terms, 
and executed in some one vngracious pranke or other, more to the 
skorne than hurt of the party condemned. Hence is sprung the 
prouerb when we see one slouenly appareled to say he shall be 
presented at Halgauer Court (or take him before the Maior of 

" But now and then they extend this merriment with the largest, 
to preiudice of ouer-credulous people, persuading them to light with 
a dragon lurking in Halgauer, or to see some strange matter there, 
which concludeth at least with a trayning them into the mire." — 
{Survey of Cornwall.) 

*' Taking-day." — "An old custom about which history tells us nothing 
is still duly observed at Crowan, in West Cornwall. Annually, on 
the Sunday evening previous to Praze-an-beeble fair (July 16tli) large 
numbers of the young folk repair to the parish church, and at the 
conclusion of the service they hasten to Clowance Park, where still 
large crowds assemble, collected chiefly from the neighbouring villages 
of Leeds-towns, Carnhell-green, Nancegollan, Blackrock, and Praze. 
Here the sterner sex select their partners for the forthcoming fair, 
and, as it not unfrequently happens that the generous proposals are 
not accepted, a tussle ensues, to the intense merriment of passing 
spectators. Many a happy wedding has resulted from the opportunity 
afforded for selection on 'Taking-day' in Clowance Park." — (^Cornish- 
man, July, 1882.) 

On the 25th July, St. James's-day. At St. Ives they have a 
quiennial celebration of the ** Knillian games.' ' They have been fully 
described by the late J. S. Courtney in his Guide to Penzance, as 
follows : — 

'' Near St. Ives a pyramid on the summit of a liill attracts atten- 
tion. This pyramid was erected in the year 1782, as a place of 
sepulture for himself, by John Knill, Esq., some time collector of the 
Customs at St. Ives, and afterwards a resident in Gray's Inn, London, 
where he died in 1811. The building is commonly called ' Knill's 



Mausoleum ' ; but Mr. Knill's body was not there deposited, for, 
having died in London, he was, according to his own directions, 
interred in St. Andrew's church, Holborn. The pyramid bears on 
its three sides respectively the following inscriptions, in relief, on the 
granite of which it is built : ' Johannes Knill, 1782.' * I know that 
my Eedeemer liveth.' ' Resurgam.' On one side there is also 
Mr. Knill's coat of arms, with his motto, * Nil desperandum.' 

" In the year 1797, Mr. Knill, by a deed of trust, settled upon the 
mayor and capital burgesses of the borough of St. Ives, and their 
successors for ever, an annuity of ten pounds, as a rent-charge, to be 
paid out of the manor of Glivian, in the parish of Mawgan, in this 
county, to the said mayor and burgesses in the town-hall of the said 
borough, at twelve o'clock at noon, on the feast of the Nativity of 
St. John (Midsummer-day) in every year; and, in default, to be levied 
by the said mayor and burgesses by distress on the said manor. The 
ten pounds then received are to be immediately paid by the mayor and 
burgesses to the mayor, the collector of customs, and the clergyman 
of the parish for the time being, to be by them deposited in a chest 
secured by three locks, of which each is to have a key ; and the box 
is left in the custody of the mayor. 

'' Of this annuity a portion is directed to be applied to the repair 
and support of the mausoleum ; another sum for the establishment of 
various ceremonies to be observed once every five years ; and the 
remainder ' to the effectuating and establishing of certain charitable 
purposes.' " 

The whole affair has, however, been generally treated with ridicule. 
In order, therefore, to show that Mr. Knill intended a considerable 
portion of his request to be applied to really useful purposes, we 
annex a copy of his regulations for the disposal of the money : 

*' First. That, at the end of every five years, on the feast-day of 
St. James the Apostle, Twenty-^Ye pounds shall be expended as 
follows, viz. Ten pounds in a dinner for the mayor, collector of 
customs, and clergy-man, and two persons to be invited by each of 
them, making a party of nine persons, to dine at some tavern at the 
borough. Five pounds to be equally divided among ten girls, natives 
of the borough, and daughters of seamen, fishermen, or tinners, each 


of them not exceeding ten years of age, who shall between ten and 
twelve o'clock in the forenoon of that day dance, for a quarter of hour 
at least, on the ground adjoining the Mausoleum, and after the dance 
sing the 100th Psalm of the Old Version, * to the fine old tune* to 
which the same was then sung in St. Ives church. 

" One pound to the fiddler who shall play to the girls while dancing 
and singing at the Mausoleum, and also before them on their return 
home therefrom. 

" Two pounds to two widows of seamen, fishermen, or tinners of the 
borough, being 64 years old or upwards, who shall attend the dancing 
and singing of the girls, and walk before them immediately after the 
fiddler, and certify to the Mayor, Collector, and Clergyman that the 
ceremonies have been duly performed. 

" One pound to be laid out in white ribbons for breast-knots for the 
girls and widows, and a cockade for the fiddler, to be worn by them 
respectively on that day and the Sunday following. One pound to 
purchase account-books from time to time and pay the clerk of the 
customs for keeping the accounts. The remaining Five pounds to be 
paid to a man and wife, widower, or widow, 60 years of age or 
upwards, the man being an inhabitant of St. Ives, and a seaman, 
fisherman, tinner, or labourer, who shall have bred up to the age of 
ten years and upwards, the greatest number of legitimate children by 
his or her own labour, care, and industry, without parochial assistance, 
or having become entitled to any property in any other manner. 

*' Secondly. When a certain sum of money shall have accumulated 
in the chest, over and above what may have been required for repairs 
of the Mausoleum and the above payments, it is directed that on one 
of the fore-mentioned days of the festival * Ftffi/ ' pounds shall be 
distributed in addition to the * Twenty/ -five ' pounds spent quiennially 
in the following manner ; that is Ten pounds to be given as a marriage- 
portion to the woman between 26 and 36 years old, being a native of 
St. Ives, who shall have been married to a seaman, fisherman, tinner, 
or labourer, residing in the borough, between the 31st of December 
previously, and that day following the said feast-day, that shall 
appear to the mayor, collector, and clergyman, the most worthy, 


' regard being had to her duty and kindness to her parents, or to 
her friends who have brought her up.* 

" Five pounds to any woman, single or married, being an inhabitant 
of St. Ives, who in the opinion of the aforesaid gentlemen shall be 
the best knitter of fishing-nets. 

" Five pounds to be paid to the woman, married or single, inhabitant 
of St. Ives, or otherwise, who shall, by the same authorities, be deemed 
to be the best curer and packer of pilchards for exportation. 

" Five pounds to be given between such two follower-boys as shall 
by the same gentlemen be judged to have best conducted themselves 
of all the follower-boys in the several concerns, in the preceding 
fishing-season. (A follower is a boat that carries a tuck -net in pilchard- 

" And Twenty-five pounds, the remainder of the said Fifty , to be 
divided among all the Friendly Societies in the borough, instituted for 
the support of the Members in sickness or other calamity, in equal 
shares. If there be no such Society, the same to be distributed among 
ten poor persons, five men and five women, inhabitants of the borough, 
of the age of 64 years, or upwards, and who have never received 
parochial relief." 

The first, celebration of the Knillian games, which drew a large 
concourse of people, took place in Knill's lifetime on July 25th, 1801, 
and have been repeated every five years up to the present time. 

Morvah Feast, which is on the nearest Sunday to the 1st August, 
is said to have been instituted in memory of a wrestling-match, 
throwing of quoits, &c., which took place there one Sunday, " when 
there were giants in the land.'* On the Monday there was formerly a 
large fair, and although Morvah is a very small village without any 
attractions, the farmers flocked to it iu great numbers to drink and 
feast, sitting on the hedges of the small fields common in West Corn- 
wall. " Three on one horse, like going to Morvah Fair," is an old 

On August 5th a large cattle-fair is held in the village of Gold- 
sithney in the parish of Perran-Uthnoe. Lysons, in 1814, says : — 
*' There is a tradition that this fair was originally held in Sithney, 


near Helston, and that some persons ran off with the glove, by the 
suspension of which to a pole the charter was held, and carried it off to 
this village, where, it is said, the glove was hung out for many years 
at the time of the fair. As some confirmation of the tradition of its 
removal it should be mentioned that the lord of the manor, a pro- 
prietor of the fair, used to pay an acknowledgment of one shilling per 
annum to the churchwardens of Sithney." The same author makes 
the statement that Truro fair on November 19th belongs to the pro- 
prietors of Truro Manor, as high lords of the town, and that a glove 
is hung out at this fair as at Chester ; he also says that these same 
lords claim a tax called smoke-money from most of the houses in the 

In Cornwall the last sheaf of corn cut at harvest-time is " the neck." 
This in the West is always cut by the oldest reaper, who shouts out, 
« I hav'et ! I hav'et I I hav'et ! " The others answer, " What 
hav'ee ? What hav'ee ? What hav'ee ? " He replies, " A neck 1 A 
neck ! A neck ! " Then altogether they give three loud hurrahs. 
The neck is afterwards made into a miniature sheaf, gaily decorated 
with ribbons and flowers ; it is carried home in triumph, and hung up 
to a beam in the kitchen, where it is left until the next harvest. Mr. 
Robert Hunt says that '' after the neck has been cried three times 
they (the reapers) change their cry to ' we yen ! we yen ! ' which they 
sound in the same prolonged and slow manner as before, with singular 
harmony and effect three times." After this they all burst out into a 
kind of loud, joyous laugh, flinging up their hats and caps into the air, 
capering about, and perhaps kissing the girls. One of them gets the 
*' neck," and runs as hard as he can to the farm-house, where the 
dairy-maid or one of the young female domestics stands at the door 
prepared with a pail of water. If he who holds the "neck" can 
manage to get into the house in any way unseen, or openly by any 
other way than the door, by which the girl stands with the pail of 
water, then he may lawfully kiss her ; but if otherwise he is regularly 
soused with the contents of the bucket. 

The object of crying the "neck" is to give notice to the surrounding 
country of the end of the harvest, and the meaning of " we yen " is we 
have ended. 


The last sheaf of the barley-harvest (there is now but little grown) 
was the " crow-sheaf," and when cut the same ceremony was gone 
through ; but instead of " a neck," the words ^' a crow" were substituted. 

When "the neck" is cut at the house of a squire, the reapers 
sometimes assemble at the front of the mansion and cry ** the neck,' ' 
with the addition of these words, " and for our pains we do deserve, 
a glass of brandy, strong beer, and a bun." — (John Hills, Penryn, 
W. Antiquary, October, 1882.) 

In East Cornwall "the neck," which is made into a slightly different 
shape, is carried to the mowhay (pronounced mo-ey) before it is cried 
(a mowhay is an inclosure for ricks of com and hay). One of the men 
then retires to a distance from the others and shouts the same formula. 
It is hung up in the kitchen until Christmas-day, when it is given to 
the best ox in the stalls. 

The harvest-home feast in the neighbourhood of Penzance goes by 
the name of " gool-dize," or " gool-an-dize." In Scilly it is known as 
the " nickly thize." Farmers there at that season of the year formerly 
killed a sheep, and as long as any portion of it was left the feast 
went on. 

Kicks of corn in Cornwall are often made, and left to stand in the 
" arrish-fields" (stubble-fields) where they were cut. These are all 
called " arrish-mows," but from their different shapes they have also 
the names of '* brummal-mows" and " pedrack-mows." 

Probus and Grace fair is held on the 17th of September, through a 
charter granted by Charles II. after his restoration, to a Mr. Williams 
of that neighbourhood, with whom he had lived for some time during 
the Civil Wars. 

Probus is in East Cornwall, and its church is famed for its beautiful 
tower. Tradition has it that this church was built by Saint Probus, 
but for want of funds he could not add the tower, and in his need 
asked St. Grace to help him. 

She consented, but when the church was consecrated Probus praised 
himself, but made no mention of her. Then a mysterious voice was 
heard, repeating the following distich : — 
" St. Probus and Grace, 
Not the first but the la-ast." 
This town, consequently, has two patron saints. 


I know of no other feasten ceremonies in this month ; but here, as 
elsewhere, the children of the poor make up parties *'to go a black- 
berrying." This fruit, by old people, is said not to be good after 
Michaelmas, kept by them 10th October (old style) : after that date 
they told you the devil spat on them, and birds fouled them. 

I knew an old lady whose birthday falling on that day she 
religiously kept it by eating for the last time that year blackberry- 
tart with clotted cream. 

This brings me round to the month from which I started. Many 
of the feasts are of course omitted, as no local customs are now con- 
nected with them. There must be one for nearly every Sunday in the 
year, and a mere record of their names would be most wearisome. I 
cannot do better, therefore, than finish this portion of my work with 
two quotations. The first, from " Parochalia," by Mr. T. G. Couch, 
Journal Royal Institute of Cornwall, 1865, runs thus : — 

**The patron saint of Janivet feast is not known; it is marked by 
no particular customs, but is a time for general visiting and merry- 
making, with an occasional wrestling-match. A local verse says : — 

" On the nearest Sunday to the last Sunday in A-prel, 
Lanivet men fare well. 
On the first Sunday after the first Tuesday in May, 
Lanivrey men fare as well as they.*' 

Quotation number two is what Carew wrote in 1569 : — 
" The saints' feast is kept upon dedication-day by every house- 
holder of the parish within his own doors, each entertayning such 
forrayne acquaintance as will not fayle when their like time cometh 
about to requite him with the like kindness." 

These remarks, and the jingling couplets, could be equally well 
applied to all the unmentioned feasts, 

M. A. Courtney. 
Trenance, Penzance. 



Communicated by Y. N. Politi<:s to Mrs. Edmonds. 



|RASTEION, a village in the commune of Kardamyles, in 
Mary, is also called Sr/otyyXvxwpt, the Stringla village, 
because many of the women living there are Stringlas 
(2r/oiyyXats). Every night they go down to the sea- 
shore in Selinitsa, where they always find boats at anchor. Choosing 
one of the vessels anchored there, they embark on it, spread its sails, 
and steer it like men, and, after their voyage, return with a freight of 
sugar-canes, because they go to a place where they grow. A young 
man who one night fell asleep in the boat, into which the Stringlas 
entered, was not perceived by them, and when he awoke he saw the 
Stringlas take off their garments, and throw them in a heap together, 
after which one unfurled the sails, and another took the tiller, and off 
they went on their voyage. As soon as the young man collected his 
thoughts he suspected the whole affair, because he had previously been 
told how many Stringlas there were in that village, and that they 
went sailing every night. He was not able to recognise them, but 
was acute enough to snip off a small piece from each of the garments 
which were lying near him. So they all together made the journey. 
The Stringlas and the young man sailed out and returned. 

The next morning, however, the young man lost no time, but went 
to Prasteion, and exposed the whole thing, and so it happened that 
all the Stringlas were detected. Their husbands took every precaution 
afterwards, but it was all of no avail, for their Stringlas wives still 
found means every night to take their usual voyage. 

* Mary in the Peloponnesus. 

f I think "witch" is about our equivalent for SrjoiyyXa in the manner in 
which the term is now applied in Greece. 



Old Metros. 

Opposite Vary (Bap??) is a little islet called Phlebas ($\^/3ats). 
This islet is still under exorcism on account of the following circum- 
stances. About three or four hundred years since, twelve Klephts, 
being pursued by Turks, fled thither in a little boat. After they 
were landed the boatman finds means to slip away, and leave them 
there. They consequently had no means of subsistence. After sup- 
porting themselves for some days upon the herbage they found, one 
of them died, and his starving companions devoured his dead body. 
By little and little this occurrence was repeated until there only sur- 
vived the captain of the Klephts, Old Metros, who had fed by turns on 
all his Pallikars. 

From that time the islet has been under exorcism. "No ship or 
boat can approach it. If by chance any vessel should cast anchor 
within a certain distance, a rushing noise and a strong wind would 
instantaneously occur, the cables would be snapped asunder, and 
stones hurled without any personage being seen to hurl them, plates 
and every thing else on board being thrown down and dashed into 
fragments. Unto this islet, however, as it produced fresh and tender 
grass, some sheep went, but they never increased. The sheep would 
suddenly at night-time be attacked with a fearful disease, and by 
morning would be dead, and parts of their bodies so black and dis- 
coloured that even the dogs refused to eat of them. Many shepherds 
have often kept watch through the entire night, but have never seen 
aught to account for it. But, nevertheless, it did so happen that one 
shepherd kept his flocks uninjured by disease and death, for he, as he 
was sitting one night alone in his hut, saw Old Metros enter, and 
come and sit down near him, whereupon he accosted him with the 
greeting, '* Good evening, Old Metros." Metros answered nothing, 
but nodded his head, in token of being gratified. The shepherd 
consequently went on discoursing, and, although Old Metros did 
not join in the conversation, he showed his acquiescence by signs 
and nods. When the shepherd made the fire blaze up, Old Metros 


did the same. From that time he knew in what manner to please 
Old Metros, and thereby save his sheep. If any are travelling along 
the roads in that part with horses ; and if at different places one of 
the horses stops short, and pricks up his ears ; if the rider calls 
out, '* Hail to thee, Old Metros," Old Metros immediately leaves 
the horse's head, and goes away, and the travellers can proceed 


JHE following story of the Koh-i-Nftr, which was told by 
an old Sikh to a person highly placed in the Punjab 
(from whom I have it), has not, so far as I know, hitherto 
appeared in print. It should be premised that an idea 
has always prevailed that the Koh-i-Nur originally formed one of a 
pair of exceptionally large diamonds. The legends relating to this 
are numerous ; but the other diamond has never been satisfactorily 
identified. Many stones have been proposed; among others, the 
Darga-i-N^r or Ocean of Light, and the Jehan-Ghir-Shah. Another 
tradition points to the Koh-i-Tiir or Mountain of Sinai as the stone 
which figured as companion to the Koh-i-NAr in the two eyes of the 
jewelled peacock which ornamented the throne of Aurungzeb, son of 
Shah Jehan. Unfortunately, the Koh-i-Tfir has a set of legends of 
its own which do not agree with this supposition. It is said that it 
formed one of the eyes, not of the peacock, but of Sri-Ranga, 
a famous idol, whose home was in a temple in Mysore. What 
became of Sri-Eanga's other eye no one knows ; but Mr. Streeter, the 
great authority on diamonds, believes that the Koh-i-Tiir is the same 
as the Orloff, which is now in the Russian Imperial regalia.* Others, 

* The Great Diamonds of the World (George Bell, 2nd ed. 1882), p. 115. 


again, have thought that the Koh-i-NAr, Koh-i-TAr, and Abbas 
Mirza were all fragments of the Great Mogul ; but this theory 
cannot be sustained in the face of the all but certainty that the 
Great Mogul (which has so strangely vanished out of sight) was 
only found about the year 1630, while the history of the Koh-i-N<ir 
dates back to 1304, and its traditional fame extends to a time more 
remote by many thousand years. 

Here is the folk-tale : — 

There was question about the Koh-i-Nur, and the Sikh said : " We 
have known all about it for ages. In times out of mind it was the 
property of a great (mythological) rajah who wore this with its twin- 
brother in an armlet on his arm. This is how it was lost in the depth 
of ages, and was recovered, and came into possession of the Rajahs of 
Lahore : — 

One day a native was at his occupation by the river, and at noon 
came his wife and brought him, as usual, his dinner, tied up in a little 
bag. She set it down before him, but eftsoons a kite swooped down 
and carried it off. The woman broke into laughter ; not so the man, 
who said — " What is there to laugh at ? " and slapped her face, or 
worse. " Wait, sir," said she, " and I will explain. It suddenly 
was revealed to my mind that thousands of years ago I myself was a 
kite, and was hovering over a tremendous battle on those plains 
between two demigod Rajahs, one of whom wore the diamond in his 
armlet. This latter fell in the battle, and great search was made for 
his corpse. When it was found the arm was missing, and I know 
how. Seeing the arm cut off, I dropped down, and bore it away, but 
after a time, finding it heavy, I let it fall." 

Now, when this tale of the Sikh woman got abroad, it caused much 
sensation at Lahore, and great search was made for the possible spot 
where the arm might have fallen, all over the district where the tra- 
ditional battle had been fought. At last a little heap, or unevenness 
of the ground was discovered, and on opening the soil the armlet, 
enriched with the diamonds, was found. This is how they came 
several hundred years ago into the possession of the Rajahs of Lahore, 
as every body knows." 


The Sikh story-teller naturally likes to assume that the Koh-i-N6r 
had belonged to his own rulers for fabulous ages, but such is not, of 
course, historically the case. A legend current among the Hindus 
asserts that it was found in the bed of the Lower Godavery Kiver, 
five thousand years ago, and that Carna, Kajah of Anga, one of the 
heroes of the Mahabharata, wore it as a talisman. In 1304 Ala-ed- 
din Khilji took the stone from the Rajah of Malwa ; but on making 
peace he seems to have given it back to its former owner. Later it 
belonged to the Mogul emperors, who kept it till Nadir Shah invaded 
India in 1739. The romantic circumstances under which Nadir got 
possession of it need not be related here ; on first beholding it, he 
exclaimed " Koh-i-N{ir ! " or "Mountain of Light!" and it was 
thus that it received its name. In 1751 it fell into the hands of the 
Afghan rulers, and it was only in June 1813 that the Punjab chief 
Rungit Singh realised the desire of his life and became its possessor. 
It had always been esteemed a badge of victory and symbol of empire, 
but as a matter of fact it rather seemed a i^orte-malheurj which 
brought horrible sufferings, torture, disgrace, the loss of eye-sight, 
the loss of empire to all who owned it. Rungit Singh is reported 
to have acquired conviction upon his deathbed that the stone was unlucky 
and to have wished to leave it as a propitiatory offering to the shrine 
of Juggernaut, but his successors could not bring themselves to part 
with it till 1849, when they were forced to yield it, with all their 
territory, to the British Crown. It was, I think, Lady Burton who 
suggested some years ago, that it should be sold to Russia, or at all 
hazards got rid of, lest the influence of its baleful splendour might 
be felt anew. Mr. Streeter writes more hopefully: "A strange 
fatality presided over its early vicissitudes ; but its alleged * uncannie ' 
powers have now ceased to be a subject of apprehension. Its latest 
history eloquently demonstrates the fact that extended empire is a 
blessing, just in proportion as it finds hearts and hands willing to 
fulfil the high duties which increased privileges involve." 

Evelyn Martinengo-Cesaresco. 



By G. H. KiNAHAN, M.R.I.A. 

Sheetin Cattle. 

HEETIN is a very fair pronunciation of the Irish words 
sidh {fairy) and teine {fire), or, loosely translated, /«zV?/- 
struch or shot. There is a very general belief in Ireland, 
even among the people of English and Scotch abstrac- 
tion, that cattle can be fairy-struck or bewitched, and in the co. 
Donegal the first is called " sheetin " and the second " blinked," the 
Irish believing most in the first ; the Scotch element, which is great 
in the county, in the second. To take them in order: — 

Generally in Ireland, but more especially in Munster and Con- 
naught, the fairies are supposed to throw soighd {anglice darts), 
these being the flint implements that are picked up here and there in 
the fields ; and, to cure the cattle, formerly they gave it a hair of the 
dog that bit it, the flint being boiled in a pot of water and that given 
to the cow, or the flint was passed over the cow, it at the same time 
being rubbed in places with it. The exact formula that was gone 
through I have not been able to learn, because, although once it was 
the general cure in Donegal, it has now become obsolete, a "sheetin " 
cow being now measured. Measuring is as follows : — The beast is 
measured three times, beginning at the butt of the tail, and thence 
along the back to the head, and back under the belly, the measure 
being man or woman's half arm, from the elbow to the tips of the 
fingers ; uext it is singed — a lighted turf held in a tongs being ran 
three times along its back from the butt of its tail to the top of its 
head, and afterwards three times round its body, beginning at its 
backbone, this operation being performed by two persons starting at 


each side, who hand the tongs from one to the other. Then the cow 
is given a physic made of the scraping from nine pots (either com- 
mon pots or kettles will do), with a little gunpowder. A cow that 
was so treated got back her milk in six weeks — a positive proof of 
the efficiency of the cure. 

In Donegal women have what they call " heart-fever," or a sort of 
*' alloverness." Wise women are able to cure it by *' measuring." 
They measure round the body over the heart with a green string. 

A witch or *' blinker " in general is a woman. In Donegal they do 
not appear to be as cute as those of the co. Wexford ; as the latter, 
if they injure their neighbour, benefit themselves, while in Donegal 
they act solely for malice, without the least gain to themselves. Not 
long ago in the co. Donegal there was a famous blinker called "Mag." 
Nothing could pass her ; everything she looked on came to grief, and, 
in some cases at least, nearly instantaneously. A man and his pair 
of horses were returning from ploughing ; he had to pass Mag's 
door ; she happened to come out as he did so, and one of the horses 
dropped down dead. A neighbour had two fat pigs ; they did their 
best to keep Mag from seeing them ; she came, however, one day, and 
the next, one was dead. She was death on chickens, ducklings, and 
goslings ; if Mag saw them when they first came out they never 

A Legend of dark Donegal, 

Not far from the picturesque little village of Stranorlar, renowned 
as the last resting-place of Isaac Butt, the founder of the Home Rule 
movement, lies a calm, placid sheet of water known to the peasantry 
as Loch Lawne. In its southern side, about three feet from the 
pebbly shore, is the famous Well of St. Brigid, surrounded by a 
mound of small white stones brought from almost every part of 
Ulster, and surmounted by pieces of linen, sticks, and crutches left by 
those who had the happiness of being cured by its healing waters. It 
has long been considered a pious custom for the pilgrim, on his first 
visit, to place three white stones on the ever-increasing mound. 


111 the year 18 — the concourse of pilgrims being larger than usual 
the owner of the estate in which the lake is situated, under pretence 
that his crops were in danger of being destroyed, closed all ingress to 
the holy well. The peasantry became excited ; threats were indulged 
in by some ; petitions were made by others, but in vain. He was a 
man of gentle, but by times (as in the present instance) of stubborn 
manner. He knew no fear, and threats as well as petitions were 
entirely disregarded. For three months his hateful mandate was in 

One morning the inhabitants of Stranorlar awoke to find the fol- 
lowing placard on the trunk of a large beech-tree, long used for 
public notices. It was signed by the owner of the estate : — " Fre? 
Access to St. Brigid's Well." 

Many were the suppositions of the pious villagers as to the cause of 
his relenting ; some said that his cattle were all dying ; others, that 
good St. Brigid had sent him a warning from Heaven. Be this as it 
may, a great change had come over him; his toleration was the 
wonder of all. Pilgrims might trample his oats, break his fences ; he 
would only remark, " I will be nothing the poorer." 

Sitting one evening by his blazing peat-fire, many years after, he 
said to me : *' I will tell you an incident that happened long years 
ago. You were then a mere boy. One morning I found my fences 
thrown into the lake. I became angry, and, falsely suspecting the 
pilgrims, I poured forth threats and curses against them and closed 
all ingress to the well ; I even determined to drain it by means of a 
channel connecting it with the lake. To accomplish this spiteful work 
I chose a clear moonlight night. Taking a gun and spade, I set out 
by the shortest route to the well. Judge of my surprise on finding it 
illuminated as if by hundreds of candles ! Trembling, I aimed my 
gun and fired. Not a light was extinguished— on the contrary, I 
seemed only to have increased the brilliancy of the scene. As I was 
pausing, not knowing whether to proceed to the well or return home, 
I saw a beautiful maiden rising, as it were, from the lake, attired in a 
long, flowing white robe, girded by a blue sash. On her breast 
sparkled gems more dazzling than the sun. She glided as I have 
seen swallows, without touching the earth, and hovered over the well. 
Vol. 4.— Part 3. s 


No doubt it was St. Brigid I often think of calling on 

Father C , and joining the Catholic Church." 

He is dead now, but his son, who inherits his liberal spirit, has 
made an excellent road to St. Brigid's Well. And the peasants 
thereabouts tell the strangers that linger on that romantic way the 
story I have told you. — S. D., in Ave Maria. — Derry Journal, March 
12th, 1885. 

Sea-Swallows on Lesson Fern. 
The fishermen on the Munster and Connaught salmon rivers have 
a great respect for the sea-swallow, as they say that whenever they 
are numerous salmon will be plentiful that year. I do not know the 
reason why both should come together ; it is of course possible that 
there may be some sort of food which both the birds and these fish 
prey on, which has attracted both. That such, however, is the fact I 
could never prove. 

Superstition in the co. Donegal. 
On the evening of November 27, between 6 and 7 o'clock, there 
was a considerable fall of stars at Ramelton, co. Donegal, very 
brilliant, although the night was overcast and cloudy. They seemed 
to be coming from the N.N.E. They caused great excitement while 
they lasted, as some thought the end of the world had come, others 
that there was a riot and great bloodshed in Derry at the election, 
then going on, while one man insisted that they were only rockets 
sent up by the people of Derry to celebrate the victory of Mr. Lewis. 

Borrowing Days. 
March in L'eland is the hardest time on cattle, and every one looks 
forward for the first of April. The legend goes, that there was an 
old cow nearly starved with the cold and want of food on the 81st of 
March, and she said : "To the devil I pitch you March, April has 
come." March, however, heard her, and went to April and borrowed 
six days from her, and before they were out the old cow died. This 
year the '* borrowing days" have been as bad as could be, both for 
man and beast. 




Tinker's Song. 

UNG by the fool (called ''Billy Bellzebub ") in the 
" Guisers' Play," as performed yearly at Eccleshall, 
Staffordshire, and Newport, Shropshire. 

Collated from three copies: two written out by John 
Bates, sawyer, Eccleshall, and Elijah Simpson, chimney-sweep, New- 
port, and the other taken down from recitation of Christopher Bennett 
labourer, Eccleshall, 20th Jan. 1886. 

The air will appear in Shropshire Folk-Lore^ part iii. 

*' I am a jovial tinker, 

And have been all my life, 
So now I think it's time 

To seek a fresh young wife. 
And it's then with a friend we'll a merry life spend, 

Which I never did yet, I vow, 
With my rink-a-tink tink, and a sup more drink, 

I'll make your old kettles cry sound, 
Sound, sound I 

I'll make your old kettles cry sound. 

" My jacket's all pitches and patches, 

And on it I give a sly look, 
My trousers all stitches and statches 

[Wouldn't quite suit a lord or a duke] ; 
But it's pitches and patches I wear 

Till I can get better or new; 
I take the wide world as I find it, 

Brave boys, if I'm ragged I'm true, 
True, true I 

Brave boys, if I'm ragged I'm true.* 

* Miss L. Toulmin Smith, in a letter to myself, mentions a ballad, " Ragged 
and Torn, and True," which she believes is to be found among the Roxhnrghe 

The lines in brackets are added to fill up the verses. The singers repeat lines 
and twist the verses mercilessly to " make them come into the tune." 


260 SONGS. 

" I've a dogskin hairy budget 

Tied fast upon my back, 
[With my staff in my hand I trudge it, 

Crying, Neighbours, what d'ye lack?] 
I'll buy an old kettle, I'll mend an old kettle, 

I'll mend an old kettle all round; 
With my rink-a-tink tink, and a sup more drink, 

I'll make your old kettle cry sound, 
Sound, sound I 

I'll make your old kettle cry sound. 

" I've a snuff-box in my pocket, 
As large as you might suppose, 
As large as any old turnip, 
t All for my jimmy old nose. 
So here I come meddle, come mend your old kettle, 

Come mend an old kettle all round. 
With my rink-a-tink tink, and a sup more drink, 
I'll make your old kettle cry sound, 

Sound, sound ! 
I'll make your old kettle cry sound. 

" I am a jovial tinker, 

I've travelled both far and near. 
And I never did meet with a singer 

Without he could drink some beer ! 
And it's then with a friend we'll a merry life spend, 

Which I never did yet, I vow, 
With my rink-a-tink tink, and a sup more drink, 

I'll make your old kettles cry sound, 
Sound, sound ! 

I'll make your old kettles cry sound ! " 

^^ Budget, a leathern bag. Fr. bougette, dim. of Fr. bouge. See 
Budge .... Budge (2), a kind of fur. Budge is lambskin with the hair 
dressed outwards ; orig. simply ' skin.' Fr. bouge, a wallet, great 
pouch. Lat. bulga, a little bag, a word of Gaulish origin. Gal. bolg, 
balg, a bag; orig., a skin ; see Bag." — Skeat, Concise Etymological 
Dictionary. Budget, a bag for tools, is still used in Staffordshire. 

" Tom Tinker's my true love, and I am his dear, 
And I will go with him, his budget to bear." * 

♦ Stale news is called in north-east Shropshire, " tinker's news. 

SONGS. 261 

Opening lines of a Tinker's song in U'Urfey's Pills to Purge 
Melancholy (1719), quoted, with the air, in Chappell's National 
English Airs, No. 166. No. 167 is another Tinker's song, ** There 
was a Jovial Tinker," from the same source. The notes on these 
songs are interesting : see also that on the Carman! s Whistle, No. 231. 

I have two Shropshire songs with the refrains — 
" Ki fol i diddle i gee wo f 

« Tal lal la ra li gee wo ! " 
These may be called the ploughman's refrains, but the words have 
nothing to do with agriculture. 

A Shropshire Hunting Song (a doggerel account of a run, 1790- 

1800) has the refrain — 

« Tally-ho, taUy-ho, hi, tally-ho ! 
Hark forward, hark forward, hnzza, tally-ho I " 

Lancashire Milking Song. 

" Cush-a cow bonny, come let down your milk, 
And I will give you a gown of silk, 
A gown of silk and a silver tee. 
If you will let down your milk for me." 

This had degenerated into a nursery rhyme as early as 1825-1830, 
at Bury, in Lancashire. 

Tee=a cow-tie. 

Cush-cow (pronounced cuosh (glossic), the uo like oo in wood) means 
ji hornless cow in some parts of North Shropshire. In the Swaledale 
dialect, cmh is a call-word to cows. In Icelandic, Tcussa is a cow; 
hus, a call-word to cows. — See Jackson, Shropshire Word-Book, 
p. 110, s. V. Cush-cow. 

Stang Eiding, with Rhyme. 

" They have a custom in Cheshire, which I well remember witnessing 
in the parish of Northen,* when I was a little boy. A Mrs. Evans* 

* Northenden, in Cheshire (near Manchester), commonly called Northen. 

262 SONGS. 

the wife of a weaver, a powerful athletic woman, had most severely 
chastised her husband. This conduct the neighbouring lords of the 
creation were determined to punish, fearing their own spouses might 
otherwise rebel. They therefore mounted one of their own body, 
dressed in female apparel, on the back of an old donkey, who held a 
spinning-wheel on his lap [^sic /] and his back towards the donkey's 
head. Two men led the animal through the neighbourhood, followed 
by scores of boys, tinkling kettles and frying-pans, roaring with the 
cows-horns, and making the most hideous hullabaloo, stopping every 
now and then while the exhibitioner on the ass made the following 
proclamation : — 

" ' Ran a dan, ran a dan, ran a dan dan, 
Mrs. Alice Evans has beat her good man ; 
It was neither with sword, spear, pistol nor knife, 
But with a pair of tongs, she vowed she'd have his life. 
If she'll be a good wife, and do so no more, 
We will not ride stang from door to door.' " 

From Charles Hulbert's History and Description of the County of 
Salop y Introduction, p. xxxi. note, second edition, 1838, " printed and 
published by the author. Providence Grove, near Shrewsbury, and 
sold by H. Washbourne, London." 

'* Ran-a-dan '* was the correct beginning of a Stang ditty. A 
woman at Eccleshall, Staffordshire, about 1884, speaking of an 
unpopular character, said, *' He'd ought to be ran-dan^d out o' the 

The Farmer's Boy. 

Kindly procured by Mr. Thomas Powell, of Southey Green, 
Sheffield, from Mr. James Beddoes, by whom it has been sung, to the 
air of Auld Lang Syne, at Harvest Homes in Corve Dale, Shropshire, 
for half a century, and by his father before him. I should be much 
obliged if any member of the Folk-Lore Society who has heard this 
song, or seen it in print, would let me know as soon as possible. 

" The sun went down behind the hills, 
Across the dreary moor. 
When, weary and lame, a boy there came 
Up to a farmer's door, 


* Can you tell me if any here be 

Who'll give to me employ, 
To plough and sow, and reap and mow, 

And be a farmer's boy? ' 

Chorus— To plough and sow, &c. 

'• * My father's dead, my mother's left 
With her five children small, 
And, what is worse for my mother still, 

I'm the largest of them all. 
Though little I be, I fear not work. 

If you will me employ. 
To plough and sow, to reap and mow. 
And be a farmer's boy. 

Chorus— To plough and sow, &c. 

" * And if you cannot me employ, 
One favour I've to ask. 
If you'll shelter me 'till the break of day 

From this cold winter's blast. 
At the break of day I'll trudge away, 

Elsewhere to seek employ, 
To plough and sow, to reap and mow, 
And be a farmer's boy.' 

Choims — To plough and sow, &c- 

" The farmer said, * We'll try the lad, 
No further he shall seek.' 
< 0, yes, dear father,' the daughter cried, 
Whilst the tears ran down her cheek. 
For one that will work it's hard to want, 

Or wander for employ. 
To plough and sow, to reap and mow. 
And be a farmer's boy.' 

Chorus— To plough and sow, &c. 

" In length of time he grew a man; 
The good old farmer died. 
And left the lad the farm he had. 
And his daughter for his bride. 
The lad that was the farmer is ; 

He smiles and thinks with joy, 
Of the lucky day he came that way 
To be the farmer's boy. 

Chorus— To plough and sow," &c. 


264 SONGS. 

An English Lady in Love with a Welsh Plough-boy. 

Young Welshmen were in the habit of taking service at the 
Shropshire farms, coming to England to seek their fortune as the 
Irish labourers do now, or did till lately. 

The love of a noble lady for a " squire of low degree " is a favourite 
topic with ballad-makers. I have another song on the same subject, 
*• The Golden Glove," see the Percy Society^s vol. xvii. 

" All in the month of May, when flowers were a-springing, 
I went into the meadows some pleasure for to find ; 
I went into the meadows, I turn'd myself around, 
Where I saw a pretty Welsh lad a-ploughing up the ground. 

" And as he was a-ploughing his furrows deep and low, 
Cleaving his sods in pieces, his barley for to sow ; 
It is the pretty Welsh lad that's all in my mind, 
And many hours I wander this young man for to find. 

" An old man came a-courting me, a man of birth and fame 
Because I would not have him, my parents did me blame ; 
It is the pretty Welsh lad that runs all in my mind, 
A poor distressed lady, a Welsh lad to my mind. 

" An old man I do disdain, his wealth and all his store, 
O give to me my plough-boy, and I desire no more. 
He's the flower of this country, a diamond in my eye. 
It is for the pretty Welsh lad that I for love must die. 

" I wish the pretty skylark would mount up in the air. 
That my pretty plough-boy the tidings he might hear ; 
Perhaps he would prove true to me and ease my aching heart, 
It is for the pretty Welsh lad that I do feel the smart. 

" I'll wait until I see him to tell him my mind, 
And if he don't relieve me, I shall think him unkind ; 
And if he'll not grant me his love, then distracted I shall be ; 
Into some grove I'll wander, where no one shall me see." 

(M. Waidson, printer, Shrewsbury.) 

Charlotte S. Burne. 
Pyebirch, Eccleshall, Staffordshire. 



Lime from Sea-Shells for Charms and Medical Purposes. — In 

south-east Ireland, where there is considerable superstition even 
among the well-educated classes, I have met (especially in the co. 
Wexford) small, minute lime-kilns, in which sea-shells were burnt. 
There appeared to be a generally floating tradition, which I never 
could get any way fixed down, that this lime had some sort of special 
virtues as a charm against something or another; all, however, was so 
very vague that nothing could be made out of it ; still, some of the 
kilns were so small (not as big as a big pot) that the lime must have 
been made for some special purpose. All the kilns, however, are not 
of such small dimensions, as some of them were good sizeable kilns. 
I take it that the lime was once used sometimes as medicine, and at 
other times for white-washing the chimney corner, where the family 
generally assembled at night. Can any one tell if a similar custom 
has been remarked elsewhere? and, if so, what was the lime used 
for ? and what is its charm ? The sea-shells were in some cases 
carried long distances inland to be burned. G. H. Kinahan. 

Witchcraft in Yorkshire.— The third volume of the North Riding 
Record Society, which has recently been issued, is occupied entirely 
with Quarter Sessions records of the earlier half of the seventeenth 
century. One case of witchcraft occurs therein which it may be well 
to note in the Folh-Lore Journal. On October the 1st, 1623, Eliza- 
beth, wife of Thomas Crearey, of Northallerton, was indicted " for 
exercising certain most wicked arts " ; she had, as it seemed to the 
justices, employed " inchantements and charmes on a black cow .... 
belonging to Edw. Bell, of Northallerton, by which the cow was sorely 
damaged, and the calf in her totally wasted and consumed " (p. 177). 

Sentence seems to have been passed, or at least recorded, on 
October the 7th ; it was that " she is to be sett on the pillorie, 



once a quarter, in some markett towne in the Ridinge, upon some 
faire daie or market day, and after her release and year of good 
behaviour she to stand to such further order as the courte shall sett 
downe therein " (p. 181). Edward Peacock. 

Bottesford Manor, Brigg, 25th March, 1886. 

Witchcraft in Skye. — Last autumn I had the good fortune to 
employ as a guide at Sligachan, in Skye, a man who was a firm 
believer in witchcraft. He told me the following story. Whether he 
knew the man concerned or not, I am not sure, but my impression is 
that he did. As a young man was going home with his dog one 
night about two o'clock he saw a foal standing on a dyke. He 
thought nothing of it till the foal jumped on him and attacked him, 
knocking him down. He continued struggling with the animal for a 
long time till his dog bit the foal. Then the foal spoke to him in a 
human voice. It was a girl whom he had been courting, but had 
afterwards neglected, so she being a witch took this mode of revenging 
herself. It was the dog's bite that compelled the witch to reveal her- 
self. For if you can scratch a Avitch on the forehead so as to draw 
her blood, you oblige her to speak to you. 

About the same time last autumn the belief in witchcraft cropped 
up at a farm-house within a short distance of my own home at 
Garelochhead (Dumbartonshire). A woman-servant was found 
marching round the farm, and beating a kettle with a loud noise. 
Being asked what she was doing, she said — " Oh, the men are all 
away at the glen, and I'm just keeping off the witches." 

James G. Frazer. 

Ghostly Hounds at Horton. — The following paragraph from Mr. 
Wm. Cudwirth's RamUes Round Horton is worth reproduction in 
the Folh-Lore Journal. It contains nothing that is new to the 
student, or indeed to any one who is familiar with village life, except 
the name ofthe ghostly hound. " Guytrash " is an unknown word to 
me, and as guessing at derivations is one of the most useless of human 
occupations I shall not indulge in mere speculation. I may remark, 
however, that, as far as I know, Guytrash is not a name that has 
been given to dogs in Yorkshire or elsewhere : — 


" The Horton < Guytrash ' was another boggard in our young days, 
and generally took the form of a ' great black dog ' with horrid eyes. 
Horton Lane, Legrams Lane, and Bowling Lane — now Manchester 
Eoad — seemed to be particularly chosen as favourable places for its 
ramblings, and many are the tales told of this Guytrash being seen 
here. The late Edmund Riley, of Horton Green, used to tell the 
story of a well-known and staunch Independent of the old school, 
who resided at Horton, and was going home one night, about the 
' witching hour,' when, as he was passing the gates of Horton Hall, 
he was startled in his meditations by something jumping at his heels. 
He looked round, and, sure enough, there was the ' great black dog.' 
He made his way home as fast as he could, and when he got there 
either fainted or was near doing so. The next morning he was told 
that Mr. Sharp, who inhabited Horton Hall, had died just about the 
time he was passing and saw the * Guytrash.' In its ramblings the 
* Guytrash ' was said to go about with chains rattling round it, and 
sometimes without ; but as it has never been heard of since the town 
was incorporated it is supposed to have become jealous of the police- 
men, and so has left the neighbourhood for ever " (p. 172). 

Edward Peacock. 
Bottesford Manor, Brigg, March 25, 1886. 


Folh-Lore in Southern India. By Pandit S. M. Natesa Sastri. 

Bombay: Education Society's Press, BycuUa. (London: Trubner 

& Co.) 1884-1886. Parts I. and II. 

We have here two instalments of what bids fair to prove a most 

useful as well as highly entertaining collection of Hindu folk-tales, 

which the Pandit Natesa Sastri has been contributing to the Indian 

Antiquary during the past few years. A goodly portion of both the 



literary and the traditionary popular fictions of Indian countries has 
already been rendered accessible to English readers ; but these fields 
are of vast extent, and much yet remains unexplored. In the former 
class are : Professor Tawney's complete translation of the Kathd Saint 
Sdgara, *' Ocean of the Streams of Story " — composed in Sanskrit 
verse, in the latter part of the eleventh century, by Somadeva, after a 
similar work, now apparently lost, entitled Vrihat Kdthd, " The Great 
Story," written, in the sixth century, by Gunadhya ; translations from 
the Buddhist Jdtakas, or Birth-Stories, by Dr. Ehys Davids (Triibner), 
the Lord Bishop of Colombo (Transactions of the Ceylon Branch of the 
Royal Asiatic Society), and the Rev. Dr. R. Morris (in this Journal); 
and one Sanskrit version of the celebrated Fables of Bidpai, the 
Hitopadesa ; but an English translation of the more important text, 
the Panchatantra, is greatly to be desired. Of the traditionary class 
of Indian Folk-Tales, we have such useful collections as Miss Frere's 
Old Deccan Days ; Miss Stokes'' Indian Fairy Tales; the Rev. Lai 
Bahari Day's Folk-Tales of Bengal; Steel and Temple's Wide- 
Awake Stories f from the Panjab and Kashmir ; two volumes of Cap- 
tain Temple's valuable Legends of the Panjdbj &c. 

And now English students of comparative folk-lore will cordially 
welcome this interesting collection of the popular fictions of Southern 
India, in which may be found the sources of similar tales current in 
Ceylon. The first story is of two deaf men and a traveller, and is 
related with considerable humour : the blunders made by deaf folks 
in endeavouring to conceal their " infirmity " are favourite subjects of 
the popular tales of Europe as well as of Asia ; thus, for instance, 
the Norse tale of " Goodman Axeshaft " has its close parallel in a 
Persian story-book. In the tale of the Soothsayer's Son (pp. 12-34) 
we find a singular variant of a world-wide apologue, of which well- 
known versions occur in the Gesta Romanorum, and Gower's Confessio 
Amantis : a traveller rescues a serpent, a monkey, a tiger, and a man 
from a deep pit into which they had fallen ; the man afterwards 
attempts to cause the death of his benefactor ; but the animals testify 
their gratitude by gifts, and by extricating him from the ungrateful 
man's snare. The Buddhist original of this fine story will be found 
in the Saccankira Jdtaka, translated by Dr. Morris, Folk-Lore Journal, 


vol. iii. pp. 348-353. The tale entitled " Charity alone conquers " 
(pp. 63-83), which bears evident traces, we think, of Buddhist ex- 
traction, is a Tamil version of another very widely-diffused story. It 
is own brother (as Baring-Gould would sayj to the Norse tale of 
"True and Untrue"; the German tale of "The Three Crows" (in 
Grimm) ; the Portuguese tale of " The Poor Muleteer" ; the Persian 
tale of Khayr (i.e., Good) and his comrade Shar (Evil) ; and the 
Arabian tale of " Abu Niyyut and Abu Niyyutin" (the Well-inten- 
tioned and the Evil-intentioned), which occurs in a MS. text of the 
Thousand and One Nights^ preserved in the Bodleian Library, Oxford.* 
In the diverting story of Appayya (pp. 104-115) folk-lorists will 
readily recognise a variant of the German tale of " The Brave Little 
Tailor" (in Grimm) ; the Chilian tale of "Don Juan Bolondron " 
(Folk-Lore Journal, vol. iii. p. 293), which is of Spanish extraction ; 
the tale of " Fattu the Valiant Weaver," in Wide-Awake Stories, and 
a host of others. The third adventure of the hero of the Norse 
tale, " Not a Pin to choose between them " — the Three Noodles — and 
that of his Italian cousin, in Miss Busk's Folk-Lore of Rome, in 
which he persuades a simple-minded goody that he has come straight 
from Paradise, have their counterpart in the story of " The Good 
Wife and the Bad Husband" (pp. 131-135), especially the Nor- 
wegian version ; from which it is probable was derived the Sinhalese 
folk-tale translated in The Orientalist, 1884, vol. i. p. 62. We trust 
we have in the foregoing notes sufficiently indicated the general 
character of this new collection of Indian popular fictions, which 
cannot fail, we are confident, to be eminently serviceable to students 
of the science of comparative folk-lore, and to amuse, and even 
instruct, general readers. The two fasciculi before us are well printed 
and in a handy form, and we hope the work will soon be completed. 

Le Reputatrici in Sicilia. Ricerche storiche di S. Salomone-Marino. 
Palermo, 1886. (Giannone e Lamantia.) Pp. 62. 

Students will thank Dr. Salamone-Marino for bringing out in a 
convenient form his study on the mediaeval and modern funeral 

* For Kirghis (South-Siberian) and Russian versions of this story, see Mr. 
Ralston's " Notes on Folk-Tales" in the Folk-Loro Record, vol. i. pp. 90, 91. 


customs of Sicily. What particularly strikes the reader is the per- 
sistence with which the practice of dirge-singing was preserved in 
the teeth of a thousand years of opposition: the earliest Christian 
authorities tried to put it down, then the Muhammedan conquerors, 
then nearly all the different rulers of the island ; but it survived to 
within the memory of living men, and, indeed, it is thought even now 
to be not entirely extinct. As is well known, over on the Calabrian 
mainland it is in full vigour, and it lingers here and there in several 
parts of Italy. Etymologists are not agreed on the meaning of the 
word Reputatrice : some seeing in it an allusion to the office of the 
dirge-singer which is to spread the fame or reputation of the deceased, 
others deriving it from repeat : one who repeats the tale of the dead 
man's virtues. Dr. Salomone- Marino remarks that his professional 
duties leave him little time for the pursuit of his favourite researches, 
but the success with which these have been attended (not only on the 
little work before us, but also in many other valuable contributions to 
the storage of Sicilian traditional matter from the same pen) suggests 
the question. Why do not physicians more commonly take up Folk- 
lore as an occupation for their leisure moments ? Without going far 
outside the natural field of their labour, they might render — especially 
in the country — essential services to the cause. 

Ancient Proverbs and Maxims from Burmese Sources; or the Nite 

Literature of Bwima. By James Gray. Ijondon (Triibner & Co.) 

1886. 8vo. pp. xii. 179. 

We gladly welcome this addition to our stock of proverb literature. 

It is an English translation from original sources, and Mr. Grey has 

added to its value by giving notes explaining and illustrating the 

points in the text, and particularly we would draw attention to the 

many useful parallels which are supplied. 

Kajflr Folk-Lore ; a Selection from the Traditional Tales current 

among the People living on the Eastern Border of the Cape 

Colony. By Geo. McCall Theal. London (Swan, Sonnenschein 

& Co.) 1886. 8vo. pp. X. 226. 

We are glad to notice that a second edition ot Mr. Theal's book has 


been called for. From what was said in tliis Journal of the lirst 
edition, our readers will quite understand that this remarkable col- 
lection of stories was likely to be widely studied, and the form in 
which the volume is now presented to us cannot but please those 
who wish to secure it. 

Essays in the Study of Folk-Songs. Ey the Countess Evelyn Mar- 
tinengo-Cesaresco. London (George Redway). 1886. 8vo. 
pp. xl. 395. 
In this particular branch of folk-lore there can be no doubt that the 
author of this book has laid the basis for future study, and it is satis- 
factory to see that the labours of this Society in the classification of 
folk-lore has already been so highly appreciated by students. Folk- 
songs, fascinating though they are, have been strangely neglected, 
but the introduction prefixed to this book is a masterly summary of 
the aims and results of a study of this branch of folk-lore. Each 
section deals with a separate grouping of the subjects dealt with in 
folk-song, and contains numerous important hints and conclusions 
which must be of great utility in future study. They are as follows : 
the inspiration of death in folk-poetry, nature in folk-songs, Armenian 
folk-songs, Venetian folk-songs, Sicilian folk-songs, Greek folk-songs 
of Calabria, folk-songs of Provence, the White Paternoster, the 
diffusion of ballads, songs for the rite of May, the idea of fate in 
southern traditions, folk-lullabies, folk-dirges. We cannot do more 
than thus indicate the scope of this really important work, but would 
specially draw attention to the essay on the diffusion of ballads. The 
Countess Martinengo-Cesaresco has much to say that is of great 
value, and when we note that she says "the folk-song probably 
preceded the folk-tale," we know quite well that her method of study 
is along the right lines. 

Messrs. William Blackwood and Sons have in the press Pojmlar 
Tales and Fictions : their Migrations and Transformations ^ by Mr. 
W. A. Clouston, editor of The Book of Sindibdd, Bakhtydr Ndma^ 
Arabian Poetry for English Readers, &c., to be published in two vols., 
post Bvo. 


Mr. W. A. Clouston is preparing for the Chaucer Society a new 
part of Oriental originals and analogues of some of Chaucer's Canter- 
bury Tales f including European variants or direct sources. 

The Annual Meeting of the Society took place on June 2nd, at the 
rooms of the Society of Antiquaries, Lord Enfield presiding. The 
routine business was disposed of, and the meeting fully endorsed the 
decision of the Council to issue a " Handbook of Folk-lore " for the 
use of students. 


By Capt. R. C. Temple. 

HERE are published in the Panjah Gazette official cata- 
logues quarterly — generally long after date — of all the 
books published during the quarter in the Panjab. 

From these lists, and also from the catalogues issued 
periodically in the vernacular by the great Lucknow publishing firm 
of Munshi Nawal Kishor, and from odd bookstalls, I have long been 
in the habit of collecting publications relating to history, folk-lore, 
and religion. I have now a collection of some 350 such, in Arabic, 
Persian, Urdu, Hindi, Panjabi, Pashto, and Sanskrit. By far the 
larger portion relate to folk-lore, and are mere chap-books, sold for 
a few pence, and consisting of a few badly lithographed and tattered 
sheets, but some are solid and ponderous volumes. In any case the 
collection faithfully represents the current popular literature of the 
day in the Panjab; and, as the taste of the poorer classes that can 
read and write runs to marvellous stories, the current folk-tales are 
dished up to suit it in every imaginable style — a circumstance of 
some value and interest to this Society. 

A catalogue of all these has been prepared in the rough, and, when 
fit for publication, I propose publishing it in this Journal, as a guide 
to any future students of Indian folk-lore that may arise. I am also 
having abstracts of the books prepared, which has proved a much 
slower and troublesome task than I apprehended. I did not intend 
publishing these except as a whole, but, as the time when the entire 
set will be completed must be a distant one, I have thought it advis- 
able to publish by instalments, and the abstracts appended hereto are 
intended as a commencement. 

Vol. 4.— Part 4. T 


1. QissA SiYAH-PosH, a Story of the Siyah-Posli, by 'Inayatu'Uah 
Khan, published in 1277 a.h., or 1860 a.d., at the Shajar-i-Hind 
Press, Lucknow. It is a prose story in elegant Urdu, being a 
translation of a Persian work of the same name : 16 pp. 8vo. 
It relates the story of a young lover of the Wazir's daughter 
being caught in the act of getting into her palace by the king, 
who manages that he marries her instead of being punished for 
his escapade. The story is told of Mahmtid of Ghazni. 

Mahmud was in the habit of wandering about the streets at night 
clothed in black {siydh-posK). One night he caught a young man 
breaking into the Wazir's palace by a scaling-ladder, and seized him 
as a common thief. The king agreed to let him at large for the 
night on bail, if he could find it. The youth's father, mother, and 
brothers all refused, but one of his friends stood security. As soon 
as the king had gone his way, the youth induced his friend to let him 
pay a last visit to the "Wazir's daughter, and ofi" he went. The king 
happened to see him again, and followed him up, and finding him 
throw his scaling-ladder over the same wall, went up after him to see 
what would happen. The girl asked her lover why he delayed that 
night, and he explained to her what had happened, and how he was 
sure to be executed the next morning; so they sat up together all 
night reading the Qurdn, and the girl promised to go to the place of 
execution mounted on a black charger. Next day the youth was led 
to execution as a thief, and among the crowd was his sweetheart on 
her black charger. When the king saw this, he called to her, led 
her to her father, and explained matters ; whereon the youth was 
pardoned, and married to the girl with great pomp and splendour. 

2. QissA StJRAJPUR, the Story of Surajptir, anonymous, no date or 
press. It is a brochure in Urdu, 12 pp. 8vo. on the ways of 
petty village officials under English rule — Surajpiir, or the city 
of the Sun, being an imaginary name. 

On the banks of the Ganges is situated the Rajput village of 
Surajpiir, rejoicing in three headmen (lambarddrs),. by name Udat 


Singli, Zalim SiRgh, and Mittar Sain ; an acconntant and factor 
( patw dr-i), nsimed AmanatEai; and a schoolmaster, named Bidya 
Dhar. All these worthies were honest as the day, and things went 
smoothly. Udat Singh and Amanat Rai died in the coarse of time, 
and were succeeded by Chandar Ram and Bhawani respectively, and 
then things began to go wrong. Chandar Ram corrupted the hitherto 
honest Zalim Singh, and these two, with the help of Bhawani, the 
accountant, set to work to rob the villagers ; and, ])eing successful in 
this, they went so far as to oust from his ancient homestead a tenant 
with proprietary right (mazdra' maurusi)^ by name Bhawani, by means 
of forged documents. 

3. Soz 'IsHQ, the Fire of Love, by Ahmad Bakhsh, published in 

1298 A.H., or 1881 a.d., at the Qaisar Press, Jalandhar. It is 
an original work in very elegant Urdu verse, in 16 pp. 8vo. It 
relates the legend of the devotion of Balal, a black slave, to 
Muhammad the prophet. 

Balal, the black slave of one 'Umia, an idolater of Makka (Mecca), 
was smitten by the teachings of Muhammad, whereon 'Umia, his 
master, began to torture and ill-treat him. Abubakr (the first 
Khalifa, or Successor to the Prophet) heard of this, and exchanged a 
black slave for Balal with his master, and freed him. Balal was then 
appointed muazzin (or caller to prayer) to the mosque at Madina* 
After the Prophet's death Balal went to Syria, where he dwelt for 
six months, when he saw the Prophet in a dream telling him to return 
to Madina, which he did, and there he died. After the Prophet's 
death he could never make the azdn, or call to prayer, as he fell 
senseless on repeating the Prophet's name. 

4. Masnavi Bo'ali Qalandar, a poem, by the celebrated Saint 

Bo'ali Qalandar, of Panipat, no date, Nawal Kishor Press, Luck- 
now. It is composed in very good Persian: 10 pp. 8vo. It is 
a poem on the Love of God {^Ishq Ildhi). 

The work insists very strongly on the uselessness of devotion to 
the world, and the importance of fixing the thoughts on devotion to 

T 2 


God alone. The moral of the whole poem is " A man cannot serve 
two masters/' &c.''^ 

5. QissA Gul-o-Sanaubar, the Story of the Rose and the Pine, by 
Prem Chand, published in 1883, at the Zeb Kashi Press, Dehli : 
48 pp. 8vo. It is a prose translation in a pure style of Urdu, 
from a Persian work of the same name. It relates the legend of 
Mihar Angez, daughter of Shah Qaimiis, king of Turkestan, 
who has vowed that she would only marry him who can answer 
the riddle, *' Gul bd sanauhar die hard? What did the rose do 
to the pine ? " Any suitor giving a wrong answer was to be 
killed. Many are killed in the attempt, but at last, Almas Ruh 
Bakhsh, the seventh son of king Shamshad Lalposh, answers 
the riddle and marries the princess. 

In the land of the East (mulk-i-Sharq) there dwelt a mighty king, 
named Shamshad Lalposh, who had seven sons. One day his eldest 
son, hunting in the mountains, met a coal-black deer, caparisoned in 
brocade, with a golden chain set with gems and bells about its neck. 
He followed it up, and met a madman in the forest, who told him that 
he was King Jahangir, of Babal, and that he had been driven mad by 
the death of his seven sons in attempting to answer the riddle set by 
Mihar Angez, the daughter of Shah Qaimus, of Turkestan, as a 
condition of obtaining her hand. This fired the prince with a desire 
to answer the riddle, but he succeeded only in meeting his death, and 
so with his five brothers. The seventh and last. Almas Ruh Bakhsh, 
a clever youth, went also to try his luck. In his wanderings about 
the city he met Dilaram, the maid of Mihar Angez, who, on condition 
that he raised her to the dignity of a wife, told him what she knew 
about the matter of the riddle. Under the princess's throne there 
dwelt a Zangi (Sidi of Zanzibar) who had fled from his native city of 
Waqaf, and had told the princess of the riddle, whereon she had fixed 
it as the condition of obtaining her. The prince accordingly set out 
for Waqaf to solve the riddle. On the road a magician, Princess Latifa 
Bano, transformed him into a deer, but he was released by her sister, 

* This is a very well -known and universally popular poem. 


Jamila Bano, who re-transformed him, gave him the bow and arrow of 
the prophet Salih, a scimitar called 'Aqrab Sulaimani (Solomon's 
Scorpion), and a dagger called Laimusi, and showed him how to act at 
Waqaf, and how to get there. He has to cross seven impassable 
rivers on the road by the aid of Simurgh, whom he was to meet on the 
way, and the condition of success was his marrying his helper, Jamila 
Bano. On his way he conquered and slew Turmtaq, a leader of 
Zangis, who opposed him at a fort called Khumasa, together with his 
chief Chulmaq ; and thence with the aid of Simurgh he reached 
Waqaf. At Waqaf he made friends with a nobleman named Farrukh 
Fal, who told him that the king's name was Sanaubar, and the queen's 
Gul, and introduced him to the king. The king agreed to tell him 
his story on condition that he was to be killed when it was finished. 
The king then showed him his queen Gul, with fetters on her legs and 
an iron collar round her neck ; a dog sitting on a golden chair beside 
her, and the head of a Zangi in a tray lying near her. He then 
related how he had found his queen Gul in the embrace of the Zangi, 
and had seized them, whereon other Zangis attacked him, with the 
help of the queen, and would have overpowered him had it not been 
for the help of his dog. The punishment of the queen was what he 
saw. One of the accomplices had fled to Mihar Angez, and had told 
her the story, and hence the riddle. Next day the king called upon 
Prince Almas Riih Bakhsh to give himself up to execution according 
to the compact, but agreed first to listen to his story; and when the 
king hears it he lets him depart in safety. By the aid of Simurgh he 
reaches Jamila Bano, and marries her ; then goes on to Turkestan, 
and marries Dilaram, the slave-girl ; and finally answers the riddle 
and marries Mihar Angez, and goes off home with all his brides. 

6. Sassi wa Punnun, by Maulavi Ghulam Rasul ; published in 1880 
at the Mustafa' Press, Lahore : 16 pp. 8vo. It is an adaptation 
in rough Panjabi verse in the Persian character of this universally- 
known tale in the Panjab, Sindh and Northern India. The 
essentials of the tale appear to be the same in all versions : it has 
a long bibliography. It relates the loves of Punnun, of the city 
of Kecham (Kej in Baluchistan), and Sassi, daughter of king 


Adamjam, of the city of Bhambor (ancient Bhambharawd, or 
Barbarike in Sindh). 

Adamjam, the king of Bhambor, had a daughter born to him of 
whom the astrologers prophesied that she would go astray. So they 
called the infant Sassi, put her into a box and floated her down the 
river. A washerman named Ata came across her in the box, and took 
her home and brought her up as his own daughter. It, however, got 
noised abroad as to who she really was ; and when she was grown to 
womanhood she wrote a letter to her father announcing her existence. 
He gave her a palace to live in, where her attendants told her of 
Punnun, and sang his praises to such an extent that she fell in love 
with him. The same thing happened to Punnun ; so he visited her 
disguised as a faqir, and married her secretly. After a while his 
people found him out, and induced him to desert her and to return to 
his native Kecham. She tried to follow him up on foot, but died in 
the desert on the road, and was buried on the spot out of pity by one 
Kaka, a shepherd. After a while remorse seized hold on Punnun, and 
he ran away from home again to search for her, and at last died at 
her grave.* 

7. QissA MiRZA WA Sahib AN. Story of Mirzd and Sahiban, by 

Hafiz Barkhurdar; published in 1882 at the Victoria Press, 
Lahore : 12 pp. 8vo. It is a rough version in Panjabi verse of 
this well-known story of the Jhang district. It relates the loves 
of Mirza, a Sial, and Sahiban, a Kharal girl, and the murder of 
the former by the latter's tribesmen. 

Mirza, a chief man (hdkim) among the Sials on the banks of the 
Chinab, and Sahiban, the daughter of Khima, a Kharal, fell mutually 
in love. He used to come across the river daily to meet her in the 
wilds, and her brethren found this out, and taking him unawares with 
his mistress, killed him under a tree. After this the girl went mad. 

8. Chashma-i-Shirin, the Fountain of Shirin, by Ghulam Manila 

Khdn ; published in 1244 a.h., or 1825 a.d., at the Nawal 

* The place is commonly shown on the road between Quetta (Kotta) and 


Kishor Press, Lucknow : 40 pp. 8vo. It is an original compo- 
- sition in elegant Urdu verse on the well-known story of Shirin 
and Farhad. Farhdd, a mason, and the queen Shirin fall in love, 
and the latter is killed by a trick devised by the minister 

Shirin, ths daughter of the king of Arman (Armenia), whose real 
name was Mahin Bano, was the most beautiful woman of her day, and 
was married to king Khusrti Parvez of Persia. She subsisted on milk 
and sugar, and the king directed that a stone channel from the pastures 
should be made to her palace, down which fresh milk was ever to flow 
for her. The man employed was the astute mason Farhad, and in 
consulting over the channel he and the queen fell in love. He used to 
go wandering about repeating her name, and the king heard of it 
and tried to induce him to desist. At last to quiet him he agreed to 
hand the queen over to him if he should throw down the mountain 
Besatun. This apparently impossible feat Farhad was on the point of 
accomplishing, when the king requested his minister to get him out 
of the business. Jumas, the minister, now disguised himself as an 
old woman sent to say that Shirin had died for love of him, whereon 
Farhad slew himself. Shirin went mad on hearing of this, and passed 
the rest of her days as an attendant (mujdwir) at his tomb. 

9. QissA Kamrup, by Ahmad Yar ; published at the Qadiri Press, 
Lahore, in 1881 : 72 pp. 8vo. It is an original work in rough 
Panjabi verse. It relates the loves of Kamrup, son of Raja 
Rajpati of Udainagar and the Princess Kamlatan. 

The Prince Kamrup, the son of Raja Rdjpati, of Udainagar, who 
had been locked up in a palace in accordance with the prophecies of 
astrologers, saw in a dream that he and the minister's son went into a 
garden, where were the Princess Kamlatan and her attendants, and 
that he and the princess fell in love with each other. When he awoke 
he started off with the minister's son to find her across the ocean, and 
was wrecked off the city of Indravati, ruled over by a princess named 
Rawati, who fell in love with and married Kamrup. Here Shahpari, 
a black fairy, fell in love with him, but he was saved from her by a 


demon named Sadhii Deo. One day he told the story of the Princess 
Kamlatan and his dream, whereon the demon allowed him to go -in 
search of her. On the road he fell in with the minister's son again, 
and they journeyed on together, and met Dhantar Baid, the miraculous 
leech, whom they sent to find out Kamlatan. The leech found her, 
and told her Kamrup's story, and on this the princess told him how 
she had had an exactly similar dream. So they were happily married 
in the island of Sarandip (Ceylon), the princess's home. 

10. Majmu'a Qisas, a collection of tales, anonymous, no date. Pub- 
lished at the Nawal Kishor Press, Lucknow: 48 pp. 8vo. It 
consists of five separate tales. 

(a) QissA Shah Rum, Story of the King of Rum, or Asia 
Minor, in 11 pp. in elegant Urdu verse. It relates the story of a 
king of Rum who was punished by God for scoffing at the verse 
in the Quran, which says " Thou (God) magnifiest whom Thou 
wilt, and whom Thou wilt Thou dost abase," and pardoned after 
twelve years. • 

One day a king of Riim puffed up with his pride of strength and 
splendour came across the passage in the Qm^dny " Thou. magnifiest 
whom Thou wilt, and whom Thou wilt Thou dost abase," and laughed 
at it. Soon afterwards, out hunting, he met a beautiful deer, and he 
went after it alone. It led him a long way and then vanished, but it 
had led him into the territory of China (Chin). At that time the 
people were in search of a robber who had done much mischief, and 
coming across the king fixed upon him as their enemy, and the 
Emperor ordered his hands and feet to be cut off. Then he remem- 
bered the verse in the Quran and repented, whereon God forgave him. 
After his hands and feet were cut off he was made tutor to the Princess 
of China on account of his learning, and taught her the Quran. When 
he reached the same passage he smiled, which made the princess oblige 
him to explain his story. On learning who he was the Emperor 
married him to his daughter, and his hands and feet, which had been 
all this while in charge of Khwaja Khizar, were restored to him. He 
was then miraculously transported to the spot whence he had dis- 
appeared twelve years before. 


(/>) QissA Jamja Badshah, the Story of King Jamja, by 
Shekh Ahmad 'Ali. It relates a miracle attributed to Christ in 
restoring to life King Jamja, who had been dead 100 years, and 
who became and died a Christian. It is in 11 pp. in elegant 
Urdu verse. 

Once when Christ was in the desert there fell a heavy rain for seven 
days, and Christ espying a fox peeping out of its hole said : " Foxes 
have holes, but a prophet hath not where to lay his head." Near the 
spot was a skull lying, and the skull said : " I am the skull of King 
Jamja, a mighty monarch in my time, slain by God for my idolatry." 
Christ on this gave him life and he lived on a good Christian for 
70 years. 

(c) QissA Shekh Manst^tr, the Story of Shekh Mansur (founder 
of the Sufis), by Ahmad, first published in 18^1, in 10 pp. of 
elegant Urdu verse. It relates the well-worn tale of this ascetic's 
saying " aii'al haqq, I am true," but which may be read as 
meaning " I am God," and his being beheaded for it by the 
Khalifa (Al-Muqtadir Bi'llah). This story says that the sword 
which beheaded him cried out also " ari'al-haqqy 

(d) Qissa Saudagar Bachcha, the Story of the Merchant's 
Son, by Shah Rahman, first published in 1881. It is in elegant 
Urdu verse in 9 pp. It is the same story as Qissa Siydh Posh. 
(See No. 1.) 

(6^) QissA MAniGiR, the Story of the Fisherman, by Ghaffur, 
first published in 1881. It is in elegant Urdu verse in 10 pp. 
It relates that a king fell into (illicit) love with a young fisher- 
man, with whom his own daughter also fell in love. The princess 
has another lover, who dies for her, and finding at last a true lover 
she dies with him, and they are buried together in one grave. 

A certain king fell in love with a young fisherman and ordered him 
to attend court. Here the king's daughter saw him and fell in love 
with him also. So the fisherman passed his days in the court and his 
nights with the princess. While this was going on another man saw 
the princess, and falling in love with her used to stand staring at her 


palace like a madman. The fisherman had to supply a fish's heart for 
the king daily, but one day the princess would not let him go and said 
she would find a heart for him. So she sent a tray and a knife to her 
mad lover outside to get the heart, but he cut out his own heart and 
died. The heart was taken to the king, and on the table it said: 
^' Thou hast not fulfilled thy promise, nor hast thou given up thy 
fraud and tyranny and oppression ; " on which the king ordered it to 
be placed in the street, that some one might explain what it meant. 
The poet Shekh Sa'adi passed by and said to it: " Being a lover thou 
shouldst suffer in silence." The poet then explained to the king what 
had happened, and when the princess heard of it she died of grief and 
was buried in her lover's grave.* 

11. QissA Agar o Gul, the story of Agar and Gul, by Nasir, pub- 
lished in 1880 at the Nawal Kishor Press, Lucknow. It is a 
versified adaptation in a high-flown style of Urdu of a Persian 
work of the same name : 61 pp. 8vo. It relates the loves of Gul, 
the prince of the Jinns, and Agar, the daughter of Khushhal, 
Wazir of the city of Khashkhash, a girl of a strong and masculine 
temperament, who is with difficulty persuaded at length to marry 
her lover and live like a woman. 
In the city of Khashkhash there was a king named Mansur, who 
had a Wazir called Khushhal, but they had no issue, till they met a 
durvesh who gave them an apple each to eat. After which the king 
begat a son named Lai, and the Wazir twins, boy and girl, named 
Mahmtid and Agar. The boys were spirited away by a Jinn called 
Lai Deo, and the girl, who was of a masculine temperament, succeeded 
to the throne as Prince Agar, in which capacity she subdued forty 
kings and, having learnt the arts of a jogij the Jinns also. She further 
learnt the art of flying through the air. Meanwhile Prince Lai was 
living comfortably with Lai Deo, who had married him to a lovely 
fairy named Mahparwar, and so was Agar's brother Mahmiid, to 
whom the Jinn had married his own daughter the Fairy Gulnar. One 
day the Prince Gul, son of Lai Deo, met the Princess Agar, dressed as 
a man, at ihejogVs hut, learning the art of magic, and wanted to make 
* This must be a variant of the well-known tale in the Alif Laila. 


her his wife, but she altogether declined to become anybody's wife. 
Eventually it was agreed upon between the parents that if Lai Deo 
should deliver up Lai and Mahmud to their parents the Princess Agar 
should be married to Gul. After much trouble Agar was persuaded 
to agree to this and to dress and behave as a woman. 

12. Masnavi Nal Daman, a Poem on Nal and Daman, by Eahat, 
published in 1244 a.h., or 1825 a.d., at the ^KTawal Kishor Press, 
Lucknow: 36 pp. 8vo. It is a translation into very elegant Urdu 
verse of a Persian work of the same name, which is itself an 
adaptation of the well-known Sanskrit story of Nala and Dama- 
yanti. It relates how Nal, Raja of Ujjain, having fallen in love 
with Daman, the daughter of the Raja of Bandar in the Dakhan, 
succeeds after many difficulties in marrying her. He soon after- 
wards dies, whereon she burns herself (sati). 

Nal, the Raja of Ujjain, saw Daman, the daughter of the Raja of 
Bandar in the Dakhan, in a dream, and fell in love with her, and in 
this was strengthened by the report of one of his courtiers who had 
seen the beauty himself. Daman had similarly dreamed of Nal, and 
had fallen in love with him. After this the lovers began to correspond 
by means of a pigeon which carried their letters. In the end they 
married. After which Nal neglected his affairs for the society of his 
bride. His younger brother, seeing his state of mind, induced him to 
play at backgammon (chausar) with him for his kingdom, and Nal 
lost the game. So he and his wife had to go into the forests where 
he lived as a faqir^ and after a time lost Daman. Wandering on 
alone he was bitten by a serpent and turned into a jet black man, in 
which condition he wandered on to the cities of Ratbaran and Bandar, 
where he found his wife living. He induced the serpent, which had 
turned him black, to restore him to his once fair complexion, and then 
returned to Ujjain and won back his kingdom from his brother. But 
soon after this he died, and Daman became sati* 

13. SiKANDARNAMA, the Life of Alexander (the Great), by Maulavi 
Ghulam Haidar, published in 1293 a.h., or 1876 a.d., at the 

* This is a very distorted version of the original Sanskrit legend. 


Nawal Kishor Press, Lucknow : 374 pp. small 8vo. It is a 
very elegant versified translation into Urdu of the Persian work 
by Jami. It purports to be a sort of life of Alexander the 

In the country of Eum (Greece) there dwelt a great king named 
Failqus (Philip), whose capital was Maqadiinia (Macedon). He had 
a son, Sikandar (Alexander), brought up by Kalqumajas (= ? XaX- 
«:tSevs), the father of 'Arastu (Aristotle). Failqus had designs on 
Persia, but died before he could accomplish anything, and Sikandar 
succeeded him. Soon after he ascended the throne the Zangis 
(Ethiopians) attacked the Egyptians, who called in the aid of 
Sikandar. He defeated the Zangis in a way that created a great 
sensation in Persia. About this time he invented the looking-glass. 
He also refused to pay the tribute demanded by Dara (Darius), king 
of Persia, and always paid by his father, whereon Dara proceeded to 
attack Eum. (Some say that Sikandar was the elder brother of, or 
otherwise related to, Dara; others say he was the son of the Gods !) 
The result of the war was the death of Dara, and complete defeat of 
the Persians. Sikandar now became master of Persia, and, being a 
believer in the religion of Ibrahim (Abraham, and, therefore, ? a Jew !), 
destroyed all the fire temples of the Persians, and rooted out the 
enchantments that had existed in Babal (Babylon) since the days 
of Sulaiman (Solomon). He married Dara's daughter, Raushang 
(Roxana), according to the dying wish of her father, by whom he 
had a son, Sikandarus (? Alexander ^Egus). Sikandar then went to 
Makka (Mecca), where he paid homage to the house of God, and 
subdued the Arabs. He then visited Barda', where a woman, named 
Naushaba, was queen, with whom he had very friendly dealings. From 
this place he returned to Rum, and deposited immense treasures in 
the temples of his native land. Starting a second time, he went to 
Mount Alburz (Caspian Gates), on the top of which was a mighty 
fort of robbers, whom he subdued. He next built a thick, strong, 
and high wall of metal over the range, to keep out the Khafchaqs, a 
robber tribe that harassed the neighbourhood. It was here that he 
sat on the mysterious throne of Kaikhusro (Cyrus), and drank out of 


bis cup. He then went on to India, and made Kaid, the king, pay 
him tribute, after which he went on to Qanauj (Kanauj), and defeated 
and slew Fur (Porus), the king, in battle. He next visited Tibat 
(Tibet), and concluded a treaty with the emperor of Chin (China). 
He next went to Bus (Russia), from which he rescued his friend 
Naushaba, the queen of Barda', whom the Russians had captured. 
He next tried to discover the waters of immortality by the aid of 
Khwaja Khizar, but failed, and returned disappointed to Rum. Heie 
he sought the society of philosophers, of whom Aflatiin (Plato) was 
one, and of whom he learnt many new things. At last the angel 
Jibril (^Gabriel) appeared to him, and told him he was a prophet 
like Musa (Moses). He then visited the lands of the west (mulk-i- 
maghrab), where he had many wonderful adventures, discovering 
where the sun sets, in Bahru'l-mahit. He then discovered the source 
of the Nile, and, returning to the eastern ocean, he set up a high 
statue warning sailors against a dangerous place. He then went 
again to Chin, and visited the land of Juj and Majiij (Glog and 
Magog), where he built a metal wall, and on his way home he 

14. Nauratan, Nine Jewels, by Mahjiir, published in 1230 a.h., or 
1811 A.D., at the Nawal Kishor Press, Lucknow : 180 pp. 8vo. 
It is an Urdu book of stories turning on the " Deceits (Charitr) 
of Women." 

Story No. 1. — A man had a chaste wife, over whom he kept strict 
guard, despite her remonstrances, so she played a trick on him. She 
pretended to be ill, and that no one could cure her but an old nurse 
{dell). So the old woman was sent for, and between them they played 
a trick on the husband. Nothing could cure her, they said, but a jar 
of magic {jddu kd matkd), and that the husband must bring it over- 
night, and take it away next day on his head to a place the nurse 

* The above is history garbled as only an Asiatic can garble it, but it is curious 
to note the tribute paid throughout to the civilising influence exercised by Alex- 
ander wherever he went, which it is too much the fashion to decry in Europe, a 
fashion aided no doubt by the ridiculous story of his weeping because there were 
uo more worlds to conquer. 


would point out. The husband paid Rs.500 for it, and broaght it as 
ordered, despite its weight. The jar contained a young man, who 
remained with the wife all night. In the morning, while it was still 
dark, the husband carried the jar away, but on the way he slipped 
and tipped the young man out, breaking the jar, whereon he got a 
beating. Meanwhile his wife was cured to his great delight, and he 
left her in peace afterwards, and never knew what had happened to 

Story No. 2. — A man had a very bad wife, who had a dyer for 
her paramour. The dyer one day sent her a message by his servant, 
a young man. Seeing him to be a fine young fellow, she seduced 
him. They were still together when the dyer, suspecting something 
owing to the delay, came after him with a drawn sword. Meanwhile 
the husband turned up, whereon the woman told the dyer to rush out 
like a madman. When her husband came up, he inquired what it all 
meant, and she said that a madman had followed a young man into 
her house, and that she had hidden him from him. The husband was 
overjoyed at his wife's supposed courage, and gave the youth the run 
of his house. 

Story No. 3. — A man had written a book on the tricks (charitr) 
of women. One day he was travelling in a city when an artful woman 
saw the book, and determined to play him a real trick. She invited 
him to her house, where they passed the night together. In the 
morning her husband came to her, whereon she locked up her friend 
in a box, but left all his clothes lying about. She then said to her 
husband that they belonged to a man who had been with her the 
night and was now locked up in the box. But when her husband 
was going to unlock it she laughed at him for a credulous fool, so he 
desisted. She next told her maid to give the clothing back to " the 
man from whom they were borrowed." She then pretended that she 
wanted a doctor, and, when her husband went to fetch him, she undid 
the box, and let her friend out, asking him if any such trick was in 
his book. Whereon he was so ashamed that he threw it into a 


Story No. 4. — A merchant left his home for a year, and, mean- 
while, his wife turned into a public prostitute. When her husband 
returned it was too late in the evening to go home, so he put up 
in the inn {sardi)^ and sent for a woman for the night. They 
brought him his own wife. She recognized him, and immediately 
set upon him, saying, " I have found you out, and proved you now: 
you are still running after strange women." Whereon he became 
very much ashamed of himself, and took her home with him. 

Story No. 5. — A labourer had a very ready-witted wife. One day 
as she was taking him his usual meal in the fields, she met a young 
man, whom she seduced. After this she laid down her dish and went 
aside, whereon the young man uncovered it, made an elephant out of 
the meal in it, and covered it up again without the wife knowing any- 
thing of it. When her husband saw the elephant in the dish he asked 
her what it meant. She replied at once that she had had a very bad 
dream in the night, that her husband was being trampled on by an 
elephant, and that the priest (pandit^ had told her that the best way 
of preventing its coming true was to make an elephant of his mid-day 
meal for him to eat. With this he was satisfied. 

Story No. 6. — One night a wife was sleeping with her paramour, 
and in the next room her husband and his father were sleeping. Her 
father-in-law happened to awake, and finding her and her paramour 
together asleep, removed her anklet by way of proof. She awoke, and 
finding her anklet gone guessed what happened. So she sent her 
paramour away, and went to her husband and made him come to her. 
After a while she awakened him, and told him that while he was 
sleeping his father had come and removed her anklet. Whereon he 
got into a great rage with his father, and utterly scouted the father's 
story, making the poor father apologise. 

Story No. 7. — A woman was with her paramour when her husband 
knocked at the door. She put her paramour into a fowl-house, and 
let loose her goat. When she opened the door her husband enquired 
as to her dishevelled appearance, and she said she had been after her 
goat, which had got loose. The husband went after it with his sword, 
and striking at it hit the fowl-house and cut open the roof, which 


revealed the paramour. When asked who he was he said he was the 
angel of death, come for the life of the goat. This so terrified the 
husband that he was glad when he went away. 

Story No. 8. — A woman was with her paramour, and hearing her 
husband coming she put out the light. On opening the door her 
husband enquired why the lamp had not yet been lighted. She 
thereon told him a story of what she had just seen. " Our neighbour 
is a bad woman, and I saw her with her paramour with the lamp 
lighted ; and when her husband came she put it out and put a blanket 
over his head, just like this ! " and with that she put one over her 
husband's head and let her lover out. When he had freed himself, all 
her husband said was, " Don't bother yourself about what your neigh- 
bours do." 

Story No. 9. A penniless youth was travelling, and was received 
into his s/jo;; out of pity by a seller of betel-leaves (jmnwdri). In 
searching about for employment he chanced on the panwdrPs house. 
The mistress, being a bad woman, called him in and lay with him, and 
giving him Rs.2 told him to come again at the same hour daily. Not 
knowing who she was, he related the adventure to his friend, her 
husband. So the husband went next day to catch his wife, but she 
hid the youth in a mat. This adventure the youth accordingly re- 
peated to him. The next day he was hidden in a reservoir ; on a 
third day in a box : all of which was duly related to the husband. So 
the husband called a meeting of his caste (panchdi/at), and while the 
youth was explaining the story to them, he got a sign from the wife, 
and saw how matters really stood. So he went on to the end of the 
story, and said, '• and then I awoke ; " and explained it was all a 
dream. On this the ^?a7icAa?/af told the husband he was a fool to 
bring charges against his wife on the strength of a dream. 

Story No. 10. — An evil-disposed woman was sent by her husband 
to buy sugar. Wanting to get it for nothing, she induced the shop- 
man to consent to give it her on condition she lay with him. While 
they were inside the shopman's servant undid the bundle of sugar and 
filled it with dust. When her husband opened the bundle and found 
it full of dust he asked her what it meant, whereon she, being ready- 


witted, said that a bull had attacked her in the road, and in running 
away she dropped her money. When she escaped him she ran back 
and picked up the dust about the place, in hopes it might contain her 
money. Whereon her husband praised her for a plucky woman. 

Story No. 11. — One day a woman's headless trunk was found by 
four cross roads, and there was no clue to the murder. So the king 
ordered a report to be made of what all passers might say. A lady 
passed, and looking at it said, " She did it, but did not know how to 
do it" (is ne km aur Tear najdnd). Being asked what she meant she 
replied — " If she had had sense she would not have met with such a 
fate." This did not satisfy the king, who had her locked up, and sup- 
plied her with food himself daily. However, she got her paramour to 
undermine her cell, and through this she used to visit him, and gave 
birth to a child. Her lover was a friend of the king, and at his house 
she used to meet the king, much to his astonishment ; for when he 
went to the cell there she was. At last she got her lover to borrow 
the king's dromedary, and on it they escaped with their child. She 
loft a letter behind explaining the story, and saying — " If the other 
woman had known how to do it, as I did, she would not have met 
such a fate." 

Story No. V2. — A woman was with her paramour when her husband 
came up. She hid him in a corner, and said, '' When I send him to 
the closet you run away." When the husband came in she sent him 
off to the closet at once, saying a thief is in there. On this the lover 
ran off, and the husband, thinking him the thief, was going after him, 
when the wife prevented him, saying, " He has a drawn sword in his 

Story No. 13. — A woman, caught by the husband with her para- 
mour, made the latter stand in the yard with a white sheet over him. 
On opening the door she said to her husband that a ghost (hhut) is in 
the yard. Seeing the white figure^ the husband petitioned it to go 
away, whereon it began slowly to move, and went off, much to the 
husband's relief.* 

* This book is evidently a modern Indian version of these almost universal 

Vol. 4.— Part 4. u 


15. ToTAKAHANi, Tales of a Parrot, by Haidar Hassan, published in 
1215 A.H., or 1801 A.D., at the Chasma-i-faiz Press, Debli: 64 
pp. 8vo. It is a polished prose translation of a Persian work of 
the same name into Urdu. It relates the story of Maimun, a 
prince, who left his wife in charge of a maind (starling) and a 
parrot. She contracts an illicit alliance, whereon the maind 
remonstrates and is killed ; but the parrot, being cleverer, keeps 
her attention fixed on stories he tells her till her husband comes, 
when he explains her conduct, and she is put to death. 

A king named Ahmad Sultan, through the intercession of holy men 
and saints, was blessed with an exceedingly handsome son, whom he 
named Maimun. .He was married to a beautiful girl called Khujasta, 
with whom he lived very happily. He purchased her a magnificent 
parrot that could talk like a man and knew the past and the future, 
and to keep the bird company he purchased also a maind. He after- 
wards went on a journey, and advised his wife to follow the advice of 
the two birds in all her difficulties during his absence. While he was 
away she fell in love with another prince and counselled the maind 
as to how she was to get to him. The maind rebuked her sharply, 
and was killed for her pains. She then went to the parrot, and the 
wily bird, sympathising with her, advised her to follow the plan adopted 
by Farrukh Beg in a similar plight. The parrot then relates how 
Farrukh Beg managed with his mistress, and so on for thirty-five 
other stories, until Maimun returned, when on finding out how his 
wife had behaved he put her to death. 

16. Dastan-i-Amir Hamza, Tales of Amir Hamza, by Khalil Khan, 
published in 1800 by authority, under the superintendence of Dr. 
Gilchrist, at Dehli: 4 vols. 8vo. pp. 216, 84, 78, 100. It is a 
rough prose translation into Urdu in an antiquated style of a 
Persian work of the same name. The story goes that Akbar the 
Emperor was so much taken with the valour of Hindus as related 
in the Mahdhhdrata^ that the Muhammadan divines invented the 
tales in this book, and attributed them to Amir Hamza, the uncle 
of the Prophet, and that, they then induced the Emperor to believe 



that the Mnhammadans had after all a more marvellous history 
than the Hindus. The book consists of a string of eighty-eight 

(1.) Extols the King Qubad Kamran of Persia, and relates the 
story of Bazar Chamhar, the son of Bakht Jamal. Bazar Chamhar 
kills Al-Qash, the minister of Qubad Kamran, who had murdered his 
father and becomes minister in his stead. 

(2.) Tells the story Qubad, a woodcutter, who becomes a very rich 
man through the sagacity of Dilaram, the discarded Queen of Qubad, 
the King. In the end Qubad the king receives back Dilaram into 

(3.) Relates the rise of Anushh'wan (or Nausherwan) ot Persia 
and his queen Mihar Angez. In his reign Amir Hamza is born, and 
Anushirwiin sends the minister, Bazar Chamhar, to Makka (Mecca) 
to congratulate the family on the occasion. 

(4.) Relates the return of Bazar Chamhar. 

(5.) Khwaja Khizar meets Amir Hamza in the wilds and gives 
him a horse, Qaitas, and the arms of the former Prophets from under 
a tree. Amir Hamza conquers Suhel Yamani and Tauq-bin-Hairan 
with their armies in single combat, and then defeats Munazzar Shah 
and Prince Na'man. He next defeats Princess Huma-i-Tajdar at 
chess, and makes her over to her lover Sultan Baklish. 

(6.) He conquers Husham, a nobleman of Khaibar, who had defeated 
the King of Persia, and restores to that monarch all the booty that 
Husham had taken at the capture of Madain, the Persian capital. 

(7.) He conquers Sangrawahal, and kills the Governor thereof. 

(8.) The King of Persia, by his ambassador the son of Bazar 
Chamhar, sends him a robe of honour (khila't), a talismanic banner 
made by Bazar Chamhar, and the " tent of denial." The Prophet 
Muhammad, through Khwaja Khizar, bestows special arms on Amir 
Hamza and on Bazar Chamhar's son. While the two are travelling 
to Madain Amir Hamza kills a tiger single handed, which had so 
terrified 'Umar, a noble, that he had climbed a tree. 

(9.) Amir Hamza has a triumphal entry into Madain. He lifts up 
there the king's throne of enormous weight in his two hands, and has 



a narrow escape of his life at the hands of Gahasiam, a warrior 

(10.) Falls in love with Mihar Nigar, the king's daughter. 

(11.) Visits her in her palace at night and converts her to Islam. 

(12.) He is sent to India on the condition that if he takes Landhur 
the king captive he may marry Mihar Nigdr. 

(13.) He sets out for India by sea. 

(14.) He comes across one of Alexander's " lighthouses " (rnindrs) 
on the road and has a narrow escape from drowning. 

(15.) 'Umar, one of his leaders, is left behind at the mindrj but 
manages to join his master at the Island of Sarandip (Ceylon), through 
the aid of Khwaja Khizar. 

(16.) At Sarandip Amir Hamza and 'Umar go and visit Adam's 
footsteps and are granted extraordinary powers. 

(17.) 'Umar visits the court of Landhur as a minstrel, and finds 
them all drunk. He robs them and brings the spoil to Amir Hamza. 

(18.) Landhur is very friendly until Amir Hamza inforuis him of 
his commission, whereon he makes preparation for war. 

(19.) The battle. Gahastam sides with Landhur and has to fly. 

(20.) Landhur is captured. 

(21.) Gahastam poisons Amir Hamza. 

(22.) Bazar Chamhar provides an antidote, and Amir Hamza is 

(23.) Meanwhile Mihar Nigar is married to Prince Aulad, who 
carries her off to his home in Zabulistan. 

(24z.) On the road they meet Amir Hamza returning to Persia by 
land with his captive Landhur. 

(25.) Amir Hamza defeats Aulad, and takes him and his bride 
back with him to Madain. 

(26.) Their arrival at Madain. 

(27.) False news of Mihar Nigar's death is spread in the hope that 
Amir Hamza will die on hearing it. 

(28.) He is sent to invade the land of the Seven Lands (Haft 
Mulk), and on the road Qarun tries to poison him. Khwaja Khizar 
saves him. 

(29.) He defeats King of Intakia. 


(30.) Defeats the Kings of 'Alania and Halab. 
(31.) He subdues Rum, and kills there a huge dragon. Defeats 
and slays a Habashi king, Shadkawa, and returns to Madain. 

Vol. II. (32.) [In my edition there is a mistake in numbering this 
story 19 as the first of the volume ; the mistake is carried right though 
the remainder of the work.] 

Amir Hamza is sent to Rum to demand arrears of tribute and 
captures 'Adis the king. 

(33.) Kills Istaqlan, King of Riim, and then goes on to Misr, the 
king of which he slays with the aid of his daughter Zohra Bano, and 
returns to Madain. 

(34.) Finds Anushirwan absent, and takes possession of Mihar 

(35.) Sends her to Makka, and attacks Anushirwan for breaking 
his promise. Battle ensues, in which Amir Hamza is wounded by 
Ztibin Shah Mughal, and flies on his horse, Khung, to Makka pur- 
sued by his enemies. 

(36.) Assists the fairy Asmal to recover the Golden City (Shah- 
ristdn Zannn), in the Koh-i-Qaf, from the 'Ifrits. Amir Hamza 
kills the king of the 'Ifrits, and restores her realm to Asmai. 

(37.) On his way home he is re-called by the fairy Asmai, whose 
city was re-taken by the 'Ifrits. He marries her. 

(38.) He has a daughter by her, called Malika Qureshia, and 
returns to Makka through Demonland. 

(89.) On the road he gets possession of the horse Ashqar, and 
rescues two men, Ashub Mallah and Bahlol Naqqash, from an 
enchanted fort. 

(40.) Arrives at the city of king 'Arshi Tajdar, whose people have 
the ears of elephants. Crosses very wide rivers to rescue Asfa, a 
female devotee. Rescues his leader, Ma'dekarab, from imprisonment, 
who relates how he and the Princess Mihar Nigar had been sur- 
rounded by enemies. 

(41.) His meeting with Mihar Nigar, and putting to flight her 

(42.) The defeat and death of Hom, king of Damishq, at the hand 


of 'Umar, Amir Hamza's son. Amir Haraza's quarrel with Miliar 
Nigar, and reconciliation. 

(43.) Captures the family of Ziibin, marries his sister to 'Umar, 
his own son, and his wife to his general, Ma'dekarab. 

Vol. III. (44.) [31 according to the text: see above.] He has a 
son, Qubad, born to him by Mihar Nigar, and a grandson, Sa'ad. 

(45.) Fights Bahman, a mountain king, with whom Ziibin and 
Anushirwan had taken refuge, and converts them all to Islam. 

(46.) Defeats Shaddad, king of the Habashis. 

(47.) Qubad, the son of Amir Hamza, defeats Bahman in his 
father's absence. 

(48.) Shaddad captures Anushirwan, and imprisons him in a cage. 
Sa'ad, Amir Hamza's grandson, defeats Farid Pahilwan. Amir 
Hamza returns and defeats Sarkab Pahilwan. 

(49.) He is wounded by Bahman, and falls backwards into a river 
from his horse. He escapes, and has Bahman killed. 

(50.) 'Umar, Amir Hamza's son, pursue his enemies to Kashmir, 
where he is killed by Gulqahra, his brother's wife, who had fallen in 
love with him, and wished him to cohabit with her. Amir Hamza 
avenges his death. 

(51.) He goes to Katis, in Habash, to recover Anushirwan from 
Shaddad. Gets lost in the sand, and Shaddad, thinking him dead, 
attacks his army. Qubad, Amir Hamza's son, is killed by a thief in 
the camp. 

(52.) Amir Hamza kills Shaddad. While after him, Ztibin 
attempts to carry off Mihar Nigar, who wounds him with an arrow. 
Whereon he kills her. Amir Hamza returns, and finds him with 
the dead body, and kills him. Dismisses his army, and goes to live 
at Makka as afaqir. 

(53.) Qarun, the son of Farid Pahilwan, comes to Makka, and 
carries him off, and sends for Anushirwan to witness his death, but 
Farzana, his sister, who had fallen in love with Amir Hamza, saves 
him. He assembles his forces, kills Qarun, rescues Anushirwan, and 
marries Farzana. 

(54.) Wars of Amir Hamza and Antishirwan, in which the former 
captures two metal-bodied pahilwdns. 


(55.) Amir Hamza reaches Kharsana, the city of King Fatah 
Nawish, whose daughter, Rabi'a Palusposh, had long desired to meet 
him. He saves them from the king of the Frangis, and marries 
Rabi'a Palusposh. 

(56.) He kills a dragon at Kharsana, and Rabi'a Palusposh gives 
birth to a son, 'Alam Shah Rumi. Amir Hamza returns to his army, 
and conquers Aljii Pahilwan, and converts him to Tslam. 

(57.) 'Alam Shah Rumi fights for his father's enemies in disguise, 
and then declares himself, whereon Anushirwan flies to King Qaimar 

(58.) Amir Hamza pursues him, and a battle takes place, in which 
the whole Khwari family are captured, including a princess, who had 
fought like a man. She is married to her capturer, Rustam Pilzor, 
son of Amir Hamza. On this Anushirwan takes refuge in Ujan. 

Vol. IV. (59.) [46 in the text, but see above.] Amir Hamza 
follows him up, and, after a bloody battle, captures Kaiyus, king of 
Ujan, and Aniishirwan flies to Gilan. 

(60.) Amir Hamza follows him up, and a fight ensues. In the 
battle a veiled horseman does great execution for the enemy, who 
turns out to be the daughter of Kanjal, the king of Gilan. She 
marries Amir Hamza, and her father is converted by him to Islam- 
Anushirwan now becomes a beggar, and earns his living as a wood- 
cutter in a fire temple in Khiitan. 

(61.) Razina Kafsh, Aniishirw^n's wife, and Amir Hamz's mother- 
in-law, induces him to search for the king, who is found in the fire 
temple, after a fight with Bahram of Khutan. 

(62.) Anushirwan marries his daughter, Mihar Afroz, to Amir 
Hamza, in gratitude for being saved from the fire temple, but is again 
induced to war against him in the Alburz Mountains. 

(63.) A fight ensues, in which the warriors Bahram Chobgardan 
and his brother are captured, and converted to Islam. 

(64.) Amir Hamza has a son, Badi'u'z-Zaman, by the Princess 
Gili Sawar, or the veiled horseman of Gilan, whom his grandfather. 
Shah Kanjal, throws into a river in a box, which the fairy Asmai and 
Qureshia Sultan, her daughter by Amir Hamza, find. They bring 
him up, and send him to the war in the Alburz Mountains. . 


(65.) A demon, named Samandi'm, carries off Sa'ad, Amir Hamza's 
grandson, to the Alburz Mountains, whence his grandfather rescues him. 

(QQ.) During Amir Hamza's absence, Qalman, the king of Turk- 
estan, attempts to capture Makka, but he is made a prisoner of by 
A'ajal, Amir Hamza's youngest brother. After this A'ajal and a 
son of 'Umar Ma'di join the army at Mount Alburz. 

(67.) In the fighting there Badi'u'z-Zaman, Amir Hamza's son, 
captures Naja', a gresitjyahilwdn. A messenger comes from Kharsana 
to say that the place is besieged by a king of the Frangis, so Amir 
Hamza sends his son, Rustam Piltan, who routs the Frangis. 

(68.) Amir Hamza has a son, Pari Shah, by Mihar Afroz, and 
goes to assist his son Eustam Piltan, and converts the Frangi king to 
Islam, whose daughter Rustam Piltan marries. 

(69.) Malik Ushtar is subdued, and converted to Islam. Zubin 
Fauladtan arrives to help Anushirwan. 

(70.) A merchant arrives in camp, and sings the praises of the 
sister of Hardam of Baro'. Sa'ad, with two nobles of his grandfather, 
Aurang and Kaurang, goes after her. They have a fight, in which 
the nobles are killed and Sa'ad barely escapes. However, he comes 
across Hardam's niece, whom he marries, being ashamed to return to 
his grandfather. Amir Hamza, suspecting where he was, goes after 
him to Baro', fights Hardam, subdues and makes him give up his 
sister to himself. 

(71.) Ziibin Fauladtan is captured and murdered by 'Umar without 
Amir Hamza's knowledge. 

(72.) A magician on the side of Anushirwan strikes Amir Hamza 
and all his forces blind, but that makes no difference, and they go on 
fighting. Amir Hamza retires to the fortress of Ardbil, where Anu- 
shirwan besieged him. 

(73.) He is released by Kasim Jigarkhwar, his son by Hardam's 
sister and Haris, Sa'ad's son by Hardam's niece, and taken to Baro', 
where Khwaja Khizar restores everyone's sight. On which 'Umar 
slays Najtak, the minister of Anushirwan. 

(74.) Anushirwan blinds Bazar Chamhar, but he recovers his sight 
on visiting the prophet Muhammad at Makka. He then obliges 
Anushirwan to retire, and sets his son Harmuz on the throne. 



Marzaban, a hero of Rukham, comes to Baro', and fights Amir Hamza, 
but is routed. On this Harmuz retires to the city of Kazao Qadar, 
whither Amir Hamza follows him, and they make common cause 
against people, who are cannibals. Sarsal, their king, is captured 
by Amir Hamza, and converted to Islam. Harmuz goes on to 

(75.) Amir Hamza goes to the city, where the talisman of Samshed 
is guarded by a white demon, which he destroys. 

(76.) Rustam Piltan is killed in a fight with Zahar Shergardan, 
the king of Bakhtar. 

(77.) Amir Hamza hears of his death. Sa'ad is captured by en- 
chantment by Marzaban, but is rescued by Badi'u'z-Zaman. 

(78.) Badi'u'z-Zaman has a fight with a cannibal king- named 
Gaulungi Gdusawar at Rukham. 

(79.) Death of king Zahar Shergardan. 

(80.) Amir Hamza captures Gaulungi Gausawar at Rukham, and 
converts him to Islam. 

(81.) Amir Hamza and Gaulungi Gausawar go to Bakhtar, and 
kill Kakh, the cannibal king of the place. They also destroy King 

(82.) Amir Hamza conquers and slays the king of Nistan. 

(83.) Fight of Amir Hamza with Ardvil Pildandan and Marzaban 
Pildandan, whom he kills, but loses all but seventy of his own side. 
These seventy are destroyed by enchantment at the city of the talis- 
man ; but by the guidance of Ibrahim, Amir Hamza restores them all 
and destroys the talisman. It is in the head of a bird. 

(84.) He kills the grandmother, and captures the daughter of 

(85.) He destroys enchantment, and returns to Rukham. 

(86.) Goes with Gaulungi Gausawar to Makka, where he visits 
Muhammad the Prophet. 

(87.) He helps the prophet against his infidel enemies. 

(88.) Is killed by an old woman.* 

* Whether compiled for Akhar or not the D cist cin-i- Amir Hamza is clearly a 
r6mm6 of current folk-tales of its age, planned on the model of the Shdlmdma. 


17. Shahnama, by Munshi ; published at the Razavi Press, Delhi, 
in 1220 A.H., or 1805 a.d. It is an abridged translation into 
Urdu verse from the well-known Persian work of the same name : 
168 pp. 8vo. It is a legendary history of the early kings of 

Kaiomurs founds the Persian dynasty, and wars with the demons. 
He is succeeded by Hoshang, the first to procure fire from flint and 
steel, and to worship fire. He invents also the arts of cooking, and 
curing skins for clothing, and working in iron. He is succeeded by 
Taimurs, the inventor of the arts of weaving wool, and of writing in 
the Persian character. Jamshed follows him ; inventor of weaving 
in cotton and silk, agriculture, architecture and navigation. In his 
old age his pride is humbled by Zuhak, a noble, who ousts him from 
his throne, and obliges him to fly to Zabulistan, with his wife and 
family. The daughter of the ruler of Zabulistan becomes pregnant by 
him, and so Jamshed flies toward India, but Zuhak captures and slays 
him. Zuhdk is a tyrant, and is killed by Faiidiin, an orphan, reared 
by one Kawa, a blacksmith. Faridun succeeds, and at his death 
divides the kingdom between Airaj, Salam, and Tur, his sons. Salam 
and Tur slay Airaj, whose sister's son, Manuchihr, slays them both in 
return, and succeeds to the throne. Zal, the renowned warrior, is 
now bora to Sam, the ruler of Zabul, and is bred up by Simurgh. 
Zal has a son, the renowned Rustam, by the daughter of Mihrab, an 
Afghan. Afrdsiab, one of the royal family, wrests the empire from 
Nuzar, the now ruler, and puts him and Aghriras to death. He is in 
turn ousted by Zu, another prince of the royal house, who reigns five 
years, and is succeeded by Gurshasp, an imbecile, who is dethroned by 
Kaiqubad, a descendant of Faridun, bred up in the Alburz Mountains. 
Kaikaus succeeds him, who is captured by demons in Mazhandaran, 
from whom he is released by Rustam. Kaikaus then defeats the king 
of Hamavaran, and marries his daughter. He then wars with 
Afrasiab, king of Turan, whom Rustam defeats. Kaikaus makes a 
balloon, guided by eagles, which one day drops him in Chin, from 
whence he retreats with difficulty. Rustam marries Tahmina, the 
daughter of the king of Samangan, by whom he has the renowned 


Sohrab, whom his father never sees. Sohrab attacks Kaikaus, and is 
unwittingly slain by his own father Eustam. Rustam then begets a 
second son by Tahmina, named Faramurz. Kaikaiis has a son by 
the Princess of Bulghar, named Siyawash, who takes Balkh from 
Afn4siab, but marries his enemy's daughter afterwards, and having a 
quarrel with his father goes over to him. Kurshewaz, a son-in-law of 
Afrdsiab, instigates the latter, however, to murder Siyawash. On this 
Rustam is sent to Turan from his house in Kabul, and exacts revenge 
after seven years' fighting. Kaikaus abdicates in favour of Kaikhusru, 
who invades Turan, where Farud, son of Siyawash is killed. From 
Turan Prince Tus is sent into Piran, where he is imprisoned, and re- 
leased by Rustam. Rustam then captures the emperor of China 
(Khdqdn-i-Chzn). Rustam gains a victory over Afrasiab and the king 
of Khutan, and then slays the demon Akwan. Bezan, the warrior, 
subdues the Gurazans of Armdn, and on his return he falls in love 
with Muniza, the daughter of Afrasiab, whereon Afrasiab throws him 
into prison, whence he is released by Rustam. Burzu and Rustam 
have a fight, and Kaikhusru helps Rustam to capture Barzu. Gudarz, 
the warrior, gains a victory in Turan for Kaikhusru. Kaikhusru has 
a decisive victory in Turan, in which he slays Afrdsiab, and his son 
Shaida, after which he disapperas. Lahrasp succeeds him : his son 
Gustasp conquers Ilias, king of Khirz, and hands him over to the 
emperor (Qaisar) of Rum, whose daughter he marries. Lahrasp 
abdicates in his favour. Gustasp has two sons, Asfandiyar and Nashvin. 
In his days Zardusht (Zoroaster) arose and converted the king. 
Asfaudiyar shows much courage in a war with Arjasp, the king of 
Chin and Mdchin, who is driven back. Kuhran, the son of Arjasp, 
slays Lahrasp and defeats Gustasp. Asfandiyar, who in the mean- 
time had been imprisoned by his father, is released, and defeats 
Arjasp and recovers Balkh. Asfandiydr now slays Arjasp and 
Kuhran in Dazhruin, and releases his sister, their captive. Rustam 
is killed by Shughad in a fight with Asfandiydr. Gustasp is 
succeeded by his grandson Bahrdm, who soon dies, and is succeeded 
by his daughter, Humd, who abdicates after a reign of thirty-two 
years in favour of Darab, her son by her own father ! Ddrdb marries 
Ndhid, the daughter of the king of Rum, and when she is pregnant 


sends her back to lier country, where she gives birth to Sikandar 
(Alexander the Great). Ddrdb is succeeded by his son Dard, who is 
conquered and slain by Sikandar, and whose daughter Sikandar 

18. QissA LAiLf WA Majnun, the Story of Laili and Majnun, by 
Mirza Muhammad Taqi, of Lucknow, at the request of Nawab 
Sa'adat 'Ali Shah, of Oudh, published at Cawnpore, at the 
Nawal Kishor Press; no date : 61 pp. 8vo. It is a rechauffee 
in elegant Urdu verse of this well-known Arabic poem. Laili 
and Majnun fall in love at school. Laili is taken away by her 
parents, and Majmin goes mad, and Laili in the end dies for 
love of him. 

Laili and Qais, daughter and son of two princes of the 'Umri tribe 
in Arabia, are sent to the same school, where they fall in love. Laili 
is removed, and Qais goes mad. His father makes overtures to 
Laili's father for her marriage, in the hopes of curing him, but these 
are declined on the ground of the lad's madness. Qais goes to live 
in the deserts as a recognised madman, Majnun, and hence his name. 
Prince Bakht Ibn Salam happens to see Laili, but Laili altogether 
refuses his overtures. Majnun makes the acquaintance of Naufal, king 
of Arabia, who attempts to7orce on an alliance between him and Laili, 
but the argument of Majnun's father prevails, and he desists. Laili 
is now forced to marry Bakht Ibn Salam, but she refuses to cohabit 
with him. Majnun hears of her marriage, and soon after his father 
dies of grief. Laili now puts on mourning, which so disgusts her 
husband Bakht that he divorces her. Laili next sends Majnun a 
letter, and the lovers meet, and he recovers his senses, but her mother 
takes her away, and he goes mad again. After this Laili dies of 
grief, and Majnun follows her. 

19. QissA Laili wa Majnun, by Fazal Shah, published at the 
Muhammadi Press, Lahore, in 1872: 128 pp. large 8vo. It is 
a very elegant, though rather high-flown, rechauffee of the same 
story as No. 18 in Urdu, by this celebrated Panjabi poet. The 
outline is the same as that above given. 


20. Masnavi Mir Hasan, a poem, by Mir Hasan, publisher) in 1882 

at the Chashma-i-Faiz Press, Dehli : 64 pp. It is an Urdu poem 
of an ordinary sort. It relates the loves of Prince Benazir and 
Badr-i-Manir, a fairy. 

Benazir is carried off by the fairy Mahrukh to fairyland, where he 
meets and falls in love with Badr-i-Manir, daughter of Mas'ud Shah, 
the king. When Mahrukh finds out that he visits her, she throws 
him into a well. Badr-i-Manir, finding this out by a dream, sends 
her maid, Najumu'n-nissa, to rescue him. Najumu'n-nissa, however, 
meets and falls in love with Firoz Shiih, king of the Jinns. In the 
end Mas'ud Shah agrees to the marriage of Benazir to his daughter 

21. Badr-i-Manir, by Imamu'ddiB, published in 1282 a.h., or 

1866 A.D., at the Mustafai Press, Lahore : 41 pp. 8vo. It is 
an abstract in Panjabi verse of the well-known Urdu work of the 
same name by Mir Hasan (No. 20). The composition is generally 
good. It relates the story of Benazir, prince of India, who was 
carried off by the fairy Mahrukh to Sarandip, where he fell in 
love with Badr-i-Manir, princess of Sarandip. This aroused the 
jealousy of Mdhrukh, who imprisoned him in a well, whence 
he was released by the exertions of Najmu'nnissd, the daughter 
of the Wazir, and finally married to Badr-i-Manir. 

The king of India in his old age begat a very handsome son, 
named Benazir. One night, when he was fifteen years old, the fairy 
Mahrukh happened to pass the palace in which he was sleeping, 
and, falling in love with him, carried him off on her flying throne to 
Paristan (the land of the fairies). Benazir, however, so pined for his 
home that no kindness on the part of his captor was of any avail, so 
she gave him a flying horse of wood on which to visit the earth. As 
the horse could travel one hundred miles in a few minutes, he was to 
return to her every day, and was especially warned against falling in 
love. One day, in the course of his flying visits, he met with Badr- 
i-Manir, and, as a result, used to visit her daily. This was duly 
reported to Mdhrukh by a demon, who became very angry, and 


shut him up m a well, on which she put a stone weighing 100 mans 
(4 tons). The cessation of Benazir's visits caused great grief to 
Badr-i-Manir, and so she confided her love to Najmu'nnissa, the 
minister's daughter, who went in seach of the truant lover, disguised 
as a female ascetic (jogin). One day as the disguised jogin was 
employed in playing on her pipe (hm), Firoz Shah, the king of the 
fairies, passed over her on his flying throne, and, becoming enamoured 
of her, carried her off to Paristan, where she explained to him her 
story, and promised to marry him if he would release Benazir. 
Firoz Shdh soon discovered Benazir, and restored him to Badr-i- 
Manir, when all ended happily ; and the story ends with the restora- 
tion of Benazir to his parents. 

Hikayatu's-Salihin, or Tales of the Saints ; anonymous, without 
date, published at the Muhammadi Press, Lahore: 108 pp. 8vo. 
It is a compilation in good Arabic prose of extracts from Muham- 
madan ecclesiastical histories. It consists of 100 stories of the 
saints in 20 chapters. 

Chap. I. contains ten stones illustrative of the virtue of abstinence 
from unlawful food. 

Chap. II. is on abstinence and austerity. To illustrate this a story 
is told of Yazid Bastami, who bound himself not to drink water for a 
whole year, because one day he had drank a little too much water ! 

Chap. III. is on devotion. 'Umar the Khalifa is related to have 
taken no rest at all day or night, because during the day he had to 
attend to the affairs of the empire, and during the night to pray to 

Chap. IV. is on the fear of God. One day Hasan Basri saw a slave 
lighting a fire, and the sight of the flames recalled the flames of hell. 
This set him weeping to such an extent that his tears were enough 
to fill a jar ! 

Chap. V. on keeping a guard on the tongue. Hassan once asked 
to whom a new house, he saw being built, belonged to. As the matter 
did not concern him he rebuked himself by fasting for a year ! 

Chap. VI. on repentance. One day Ibrahim of Balkh went out 
hunting, and on following ar stag it turned and spoke to him, asking 


him if God had created him to spend his life in this manner. This 
unnatural warning caused Ibrahim to repent and become a saint. 

Chap. VII. on the miracles of saints. Siifian Suri is said to have 
brought up sugar and flour as well as water in his bucket when he 
dipped it in the well Zamzam. 

Chap. VIII. on the acceptance of prayer. While Abubakr was 
praying in the mosque a thief came and stole his sheet and tried to 
sell it, but he was struck with paralysis in the act. This created a 
crowd to whom the thief told the truth, and they advised him to restore 
the sheet. This he did, and through the prayers of the saint recovered 
the use of his hands. 

Chap. IX. on good intentions and second sight. Ibrahim, a saint, 
had, against his inclination, abstained from bread and milk for twelve 
years, when one day he attended a sick man and asked him what he 
would like to eat. On this the sick man asked him how he, who had 
himself abstained, could ask such a question. 

Chap. X. on reliance on God. Siifian Suri and Shaibdn were 
travelling together to Makka, when they met a tiger. Sufian Stiri, 
remarking that the Creator of all was the same, caught the tiger by 
the ear and made it quite subservient to him. 

Chap. XI. on generosity and almsgiving. A man, heavily in debt, 
asked a friend for a loan, which was at once given him, with the 
remark that he much regretted being so obtuse as not to have fore- 
seen his friend's need, and to have waited until the loan was asked 

Chap. XII. on the chiefs of Isldm. 'Umar the Khalifa spent his 
nights in wandering about shutting open doors, rescuing stray cattle, 
and putting things straight generally. A friend once asked him why 
he did this himself instead of sending a deputy in his place. He 
replied, '' I am responsible before God." 

Chap. XIII. on the devotion of women. 'Umm Amanta used to 
travel between Makka and Madina without provisions, and no one 
ever saw her eating. When asked why, she replied that once during 
a pilgrimage she was in a desert and like to die of thirst, when a pot 
of pure water came to her from heaven and saved her. Since then 
she took no provisions but trusted entirely in God. 


Chap. XIV. on the miracles of boys. Sahnan \yas once travelling 
to Jerusalem (Baitu'l-Muqaddas), and met a boy who greeted him 
and told him to shut his eyes. When he opened them again he found 
himself at his journey's end. He offered the boy some money, whereon 
the boy smiled and took up some earth in his hand, which turned into 
gold and silver at once. 

Chap. XV. on temperance and chastity. A holy man once asked 
at a door for water. The slave that brought it rebuked him for 
requiring it and not fasting during every day ! 

Chap. XVI. stories oifaqirs. Kfaqir was once in a ship in which 
a merchant lost a valuable gem. The /ag'ir who appeared to be very 
poor was charged with stealing it. He thereupon caused a quantity 
of fish to rise up from the sea, each with a gem in its mouth, which 
he gave to the merchant. He then jumped from the vessel and walked 
away on the surface of the sea. 

Chap. XVII. on aiding the distressed. A tyrant once seized the 
house of a poor woman and began to build a palace in its place, on 
which she prayed to God, who sent the angel Gabriel to destroy the 
palace then and there. 

Chap. XVIII. on the death of saints. Zu'nnun, while in Egypt 
(Misr), was so reserved that many thought him an atheist, but when 
he died and his body was being buried, at the words of the Creed he 
raised his finger to heaven and repeated the words with his lips. 

Chap. XIX. on the visits of the dead saints. A young man who 
had been drowned in a shipwreck visited a friend after death and told 
him he had achieved a high place in heaven. 

Chap. XX. miscellaneous tales. A friend asked a saint to dine 
with him, and when he arrived told him the dinner was not ready. He 
did this seven times, and still the saint showed no displeasure ! 

23. Nasket, by Brij Lai ; published in 1882 at the Gulshan Rashidi 
Press, Lahore : 24 pp. 8vo. It is an Urdu prose version of a 
well-known Sanskrit book. Nasket was born through the nose 
of his mother, Chand Eawati, daughter of Raja Raghu. He then, 
in his mortal body, visited Jampuri in heaven, and related his 
adventures there. 


Raja Janameja was cursed with leprosy for murdering a Brahman, 
and was told the story of Nasket by Brigiisdeoji, which is as follows: — 
While Udyalak, the Rishi, was doing penance, he was visited by 
Prahlad, who asked him why he was not married, as it was impossible 
for a Hindu to obtain salvation without issue. Udyalak said he was 
too old, whereon Prahlad advised him to consult Brahma, who told 
him that Princess Chand Rdwati, daughter of Raja Raghu was to be 
his wife, and that his son would visit him before his wife. One day 
after this some sperma genitale escaped from him into a flower, and the 
flower got afloat in the Ganges and reached the Princess Chand Rawati 
as she was bathing. She took up the flower to smell, and thus she 
took in the sperma genitale and became pregnant. Her parents turned 
her out of her home in consequence, and she gave birth to a child in 
the wilds through her nose, i.e. through the organ by which the sperma 
genitale had entered her ; and being unable to support it, set it afloat 
on a raft, whence it was rescued by Udyalak, his father. About ten 
years afterwards he met the princess, who told him her story, where- 
upon Udydlak went to her father and explained his daughter's inno- 
cence, and so she was again received into favour. This child was 
Nasket. One day his father, being angry, caused him to go to 
Jampuri in his mortal form. He there met Dharmrdj , the king of 
heaven and hell, who being very pleased at his obedience to his father, 
blessed him to be immortal. He was also shown the apportionment 
of rewards and punishments, and allowed to explain it to his parents. 

When Raja Janameja had heard this story he was cured of his 

24. Alhakhand, by Ghasi Ram ; published in 1882 at the Gydn 
Sdgar Press, Merath : thick octavo volume. It is a good Hindi 
versified version of this celebrated tale. It relates the doings of 
the heroes Aih4 and Udal in their fifty-two victorious wars, which 
occurred according to this version during the reign of Shahd- 
bu'ddin Ghori. 

Two infants named Jasrdj and Basraj were found one day in a 
jungle where the Raja of Mahoba was hunting. Jasraj's son was Alhd 
Vol. 4. — Part 4. x 


and Basraj's CJdal, the heroes of fifty-two fights in and about Dehli.* 
Alha and Udal are zindd pirs, that is, heroes still supposed to be 

25. Panjphulan, Prince Five-flowers, by Bhdi Gopal Singh, no date ; 
published at the Arya Pargas Press, Amritsar: 16 pp. 8vo. It 
is in rustic Panjabi verse, and relates the loves of Prince Shami 
and Princess PanjphuUn. 

A merchant of Bukhdrd named 'Aziz had a very handsome wife, 
and when she was pregnant he made a voyage to Constantinople. 
The ship was wrecked, and every one drowned except the pregnant 
woman, who escaped on a raft. She gave birth to Prince Shami on 
the raft, but was drowned soon afterwards. The child, however, 
floated to Constantinople, where it was taken to the Sultan and 
adopted by him. When he was fifteen years old a fairy carried him 
off, but allowed him to wander the earth on a winged horse. One day 
he thus met Princess Panjphulan of Persia, and they were married. 
He after this returned to Constantinople, and lived there for the rest 
of his days. 

26. Tilism-i-Hairat, by Ja'fir 'AM, pubHshed in 1872 at the Nawal 

Kishor Press, Lucknow : 142 pp. 8vo. It is in a lofty style of 
Urdu prose much mixed with Arabic and Persian. Princess 
Nigar Iram, of Egypt, fell in love with the picture of Prince 
Nigar 'Alam, of India, left her country in search of him, and 
finally found him and married him in India. 

Nigar Iram was the beautiful daughter of Sikandarbakht, king of 
Egypt, and had for her companion Bahdr Iram, daughter of the 
minister. One day they went fishing, but the sea was rough, and 
only these two were landed on a foreign shore, all the rest being 
drowned. Here, in a house, Nigdr Iram saw the picture of Nigar 
'Alam, and fell in love with it. Both the girls travelled to India 
in search of the original, and there they found that he had been 

* Bukhara, is also quoted as a scene of their battles ! An elaborate 7'esumd 
and account of tbis cycle of legends will be found in the volume for 1885 of the 
Indian Antiquary. 


carried off by Qarnas, king of Jinns. Shah Sdbib, ^faqir^ had the 
power to order Qarnas to come into his presence when he chose, but 
he slept for six months every year, and so the princess had to wait 
till he awoke ; meanwhile, a fairy carried her off too ! In due time 
iliQfaqir summoned Qarnas, who brought Nigar 'Alam with him, and 
they heard from him the story of Nigar Iram. This made Nigar 
'Alam determined to marry her, and so they all three, with Nigar 
'Alam's companion, his father's minister's son, set out to find her. 
They found her in Babinas, an enchanted fortress, from which they 
released her, and all ended happily, for Nigar 'Alam married Nigar 
Iram, and Bahar Irani was married to Nigar 'Alam's companion. 

27. Hayat Nai, Haydt the Barber, by Muhammad Shah, published, 
without date, at the Mufid-i-'am Press, Lahore : 14 pp. 8vo. 
It is in elegant Panjabi verse. Hayat, a brave man, was a 
" watcher " in the fields, and left his village without the know- 
ledge of his friends, putting Badu Ranghar in his place. During 
the night Hayat's enemies burnt down his hut, and Badu 
Ranghar in it. Hayat's relatives thereupon buried the charred 
remains as the body of Hayat, and, when he returned alive, held 
him to be a ghost until matters were eventually explained. The 
scene of the tale is laid at Sarli, in the Firozpur district, and the 
story is a well-known one. 

28. SoHANi, by Gangaram, published at the Mustafa! Press, Lahore, 
without date : 8 pp. 8vo. It is in elegant Panjabi verse. In 
the time of Shahjahan of Dehli, 'Izzat Beg, a Mughal of Balkh, 
arrived in Gujrat, where he fell in love with Sohani, a potter's 
daughter. Sohani had to cross the Chindb in order to reach 
her lover, and was one day drowned. On hearing this, 'Izzat 
Beg, who had taken the Hindu name of Mahi Mall, also drowned 
himself. The tale is universally known. 




LLUMINATED by the genius of Shakspeare, consecrated 
by the authority of the Hebrew Scriptures, told by word 
of mouth in humbler fashion by mother to babe from the 
Himalayas to the forests of Brazil, from the Siberian 
steppes to the shores of the Mediterranean, the story of the child 
rejected by his father and family for a slight offence more apparent 
than real, who yet from an outcast becomes a prince and compels the 
parent who has treated him so cruelly to acknowledge his wrong, has 
charmed the ears and enthralled the hearts of many a tribe in the Old 
World, and has been carried by some of them across the ocean. The 
story of King Lear has been written down for seven centuries ; that 
of Joseph and his Brethren probably four times that period. Until 
recent years there was little reason to suspect that these two stories 
had any fundamental connection ; but the publication of collections of 
folk-tales, which has increased so rapidly during the last three decades, 
now enables us to determine their relation, and to show that they are 
but two of the forms assumed by a narrative essentially the same, 
when told in widely distant countries and among peoples sundered as 
far by difference of manners, faith and social organization, as of land 
and climate. I propose in these pages to examine some of the forms 
thus assumed, and to attempt a classification of them. 

They fall into five distinct types. Three of these are examples of 
that series of myths in which the hero is the youngest of several 
children, and which are commonly known to folk-lore students as 
Youngest-best stories. 

In the first the conduct of the elder children is strongly contrasted 
with that of the youngest. This I call the King Lear type. Its 


specimens are all occupied with the adventures of a king's three 

In the second type the story of the elder children is dropped. In 
both these types the catastrophe is brought about by the heroine's 
reply to her father on being asked how much she loves him. In this, 
the Value of Salt Type, we are still concerned with a band of sisters. 

In the third type the catastrophe is due to the father's wrath being 
excited by a different cause from that in the two foregoing types, — 
usually by the hero's dream. I have ventured to give this genus the 
title of the Joseph type. It deals sometimes with sons, at other times 
with daughters. 

The fourth and fifth types record the career of an only son who has 
fallen without reasonable cause under his father's anger. From one 
of the stories in the English version of The Seven Wise Masters we 
may give the former the name of The Ravens type. The latter may 
be denominated The Language of Beasts type. These two types, though 
distinguishable, are nearly related. 

We owe the story of King Lear to Geoffrey of Monmouth,* whose 
narrative has been closely followed by Shakspeare. Its outlines run 
as follows: — Leir, the son of Bladud, king of Britain, having governed 
sixty years and being without male issue, was desirous of dividing his 
kingdom between his three daughters, Gonorilla, Regan, and Cordeilla, 
and of marrying them to fit husbands. To make trial which of them 
was worthy to have the best part of his kingdom, he went to each of 
them to ask which of them loved him most. Gonorilla, in answer, 
called heaven to witness that she loved him more than her own soul. 
Regan replied with an oath that she loved him before all creatures. 
Cordeilla, the youngest and his best-beloved, setting at their true 
value her sisters' protestations, and regretting the ease with which her 
father was deceived by them, answered that she had always loved him 
as a father, and whoever pretended to do more must be disguising her 

♦ The most easily accessible and handiest edition of Geoffrey is in the Six Old 
English Chronicles, Bohn, 1848. This story will be found on p. 114. 


real sentiments beneath a veil of flattery : if, however, he still insisted 
on a further pledge, she would tell him — " Look how much you have, 
so much is your value, and so much do I love you," Her father 
angrily excluded her from any share of the kingdom, half of which he 
gave in possession to his other two daughters, marrying them respect- 
ively to the dukes of Cornwall and Albania, and settling the remainder 
of the whole monarchy of Britain upon them after his own death. 
The king of the Franks, having heard of Cordeilla's beauty, sent to 
demand her in marriage, and accepted her without any dowry. After 
a time the husbands of the two elder daughters rebelled and deprived 
Leir of his kingdom ; the duke of Albania, who had married 
Gonorilla, agreeing to allow hinj a Maintenance at his own house, with 
sixty soldiers who were to be kept for state. Then follow the quarrels 
between Leir and his daughter Gonorilla as to the number of his 
retainers, his flight to Regan, the other daughter, his quarrel with her, 
and return to Gonorilla, who will not receive him back unless he 
dismisses all his retainers, with the result that he takes ship for Gaul 
and seeks Cordeilla. Cordeilla, taking pity on him, provides him 
with a retinue ; and her husband, raising an army, invades Britain 
with king Leir, and restores him to the throne of the whole kingdom. 
The old monarch reigns for upwards of two years, and on his death 
Cordeilla succeeds him. 

This is the substance of the tale as written down in the middle of 
the twelfth century ; but whence it was then derived there is not a 
trace beyond internal evidence to show. The originals which Geoffrey 
professes to have had before him in writing his Eomances are no 
longer extant. It seems likely he really had a collection of folk-tales, 
either Welsh or Armorican, made, either by himself, or (as he asserts) 
by another person and brought to him by the Archdeacon Walter ; 
but, if so, such collection has utterly disappeared. What is still more 
extraordinary is that, so far as we have the means of judging, not 
only has the collection as an entirety gone, but the separate and 
individual items of which it was composed have nearly, if not quite, 
all likewise vanished. There can be little doubt that in the compo- 
sition of the Mabinogion use was made, to say the least, of genuine 
Welsh traditions. In these stories mention is frequently made of 


Lear. But he is surrounded by a totally different set of circumstances 
from those by which Geoffrey had encircled him ; and if Cordelia is 
referred to, her wicked sisters have departed nobody knows whither. 
The tales of the Mabinogion are in fact on a distinct plane from those 
of Geoffrey of Monmouth. It is not only that they have a less 
historical and more chivalric air, but they are not the same tales. On 
the other hand, if we turn to the Welsh, to the Cornish, or to the 
Breton folk-lore of the present day, we are equally at fault in our 
searca for anything corresponding to Geoffrey's originals. No story 
has, so far as I am aware, yet been discovered in the mouths of the 
people which can be identified with the contents of those mysterious 
manuscripts. What makes this the more strange is that Geoffrey of 
Monmouth's tales have in several instances been shown to be part of 
the general Aryan inheritance, if not of the common property of man- 
kind. In Wales, indeed, the mdrchen has to all appearance been 
aimost destroyed: it would be remarkable to find any indigenous 
example of that form of folk-tale there at all. But stories often 
become afiixed to the soil, or cluster round the names of historic dead, 
and thus in saga-form preserve their vitality for many centuries. 
Some transfoi-mation of this kind seems to have been imminent, if it 
had not actually taken place, in these tales when they fell under 
Geoffrey's hands and received from him a literary shape and immor- 
tality. And if the mdrchen no longer exists in Wales, sagas, at any 
rate, are happily not wanting. But I do not think I am going beyond 
the facts in saying that no research has yet found, even in saga-form, 
any of Geoffrey's narratives. I speak with some diffidence, as I do not, 
of course, pretend to have seen or heard all Welsh, Breton, and Cornish 
tales ; nor is it important now to determine whether any of these 
narratives have been met with. The one fact with which we have now 
to concern ourselves is that the story of king Lear and his three 
daughters has never been met with. 

The Gesta Eomanorum was.probably compiled originally in England 
at the end of the thirteenth century, or about one hundred and thirty 
to one hundred and fifty years after Geoffrey of Monmouth's Romances. 
This work was composed of tales having a more or less remotely 
popular origin, fitted with applications which treated them as parables 


suitable to be introduced into the discourses of medigeval preachers. 
One of these tales, which is only found in the English manuscripts of 
the Gesta, is practically identical with that of king Lear and his three 
daughters.* It runs to this effect : — Theodosius, Emperor of Kome, 
had three daughters, of whom he enquired how much they loved him. 
His eldest daughter declared she loved him more than herself. There- 
fore he married her to a rich and mighty king. His second daughter 
averred she loved him as much as herself. So he married her to a 
duke. But his third daughter told him she loved him as much as 
he was worthy, and no more. The emperor, ofifended, only married 
her to an earl. After that he went to war with the king of Egypt, 
who drove him out of the empire. He wrote for help to his eldest 
daughter, who refused him more than five knights for fellowship 
while he was out of the empire. Then he wrote to his second 
daughter, who, however, would do no more than " find him meat and 
drink and clothing honestly as for the state of such a lord during tlie 
time of his need." As a last resource he wrote to the third, telling her 
of her sisters' replies. She at once induced her husband to gather a 
great host, and go with the emperor to battle against his enemies, 
with the result that the latter were defeated, and the emperor was 
restored to his throne, to which his youngest daughter succeeded after 
his death. 

Looking at the coincidences between this story and that given by 
Geoffrey, and at the fact that the latter's work had been circulating 
and well-known for upwards of a century in this country, among the very 
classes in the midst of which the Gesta Romanorum was produced, it is 
difficult to avoid the conclusion that the gest of the emperor Theodosius 
owes its existence to Geoffrey's account of king Lear. But, if so, it 
seems likely that the parentage is not immediate, but that the story 
was verbally transmitted for some time before it was again put into 

Although, however, this tale is not now found among the Cymric 
tribes as a living organism, it is given by Blade, with some variation. 

Gesta Mo)nano7'um, London, Geo. Bell & Sons, 1877, p. xxxix. 


as still heard from the peasants of the south-west of France.* As 
told by them it runs as follows : — A widowed king, who loves salt, 
and has three daughters to marry, determines, against the advice of 
a confidential servant, to test their love by the usual enquiries. The 
youngest replies that she loves him as much as he loves salt. Enraged 
beyond measure at this answer, he compels the servant in question to 
take her into the wood for the purpose of putting her to death, and 
divides his land between his two elder daughters, reserving to himself 
the right to live with eacb of them for six months of each year. The 
servant takes the heroine, with her royal robes in a wallet, to a neigh- 
bouring king, whose service she enters, and is employed to look after 
the turkeys. On his way back he kills his bitch, and takes her tongue 
to the king, his master, in proof of his having fulfilled the unnatural 
command with which he was entrusted. Meantime, the elder daughters 
have bribed the notary who was summoned to draw the deed of gift of 
the kingdom ; and by their instructions the reservation of the king's 
right to board and lodging with his daughters has been carefully 
left out of the instrument. The king, turned out of doors, is housed 
and supported by the faithful servant out of the moneys given him by 
the heroine's father and sisters for her supposed slaughter. The 
heroine, still living, falls in love with her new master's son. When 
the carnival arrives, she secretly dresses herself in her robes, takes a 
horse from the stable, and attends a ball where she meets this royal 
youth ; but she is punctual in leaving at midnight. The next night 
she repeats the adventure in more gorgeous apparel. The third night, 
still more resplendent, she goes to the ball again, but in quitting it 
loses the red slipper from her right foot. The slipper is found by the 
prince, and a proclamation is made that he will marry her whom it fits. 
After all have tried, it fits none but the little turkey-herd. She, how- 
ever, refuses to marry without her father's consent. Her father, 
having learnt the truth about his youngest daughter from his servant, 
goes in search of her, and arrives at the castle where she is in service. 
She still refuses to marry until her father has been reinstated in his 

* Blade, Contcs Populaires recueilUs en Agenais, Story No. 8, p. 31; version 
in dialect, p. 102. Contes Po2mlaires de la Gaseoigne, vol. i. p. 251. 


rights by her lover and his father. When this is done she yields ; 
and the faithful servant is also rewarded with a suitable marriage. 

In this story Peau d'Ane has got inextricably mixed with King 
Lear and his daughters; or rather, this is the story of Peau d'Ane with 
the motive of the heroine's flight and disguise attributed to Lear's senile 
folly. Nothing could have been better adapted to exhibit the Proteus- 
like character of folk-tales, or to make it clear that a classification of 
incidents is of equal importance to the student with a classification of 
tales. It is not, however, for this purpose that I have given this story 
from Agenais so much at length, but in order to distinguish it from 
some other versions which we shall meet with presently, and which 
Dr. Kohler in a note to this story brings into comparison with it. 
All I desire now to observe is that the wickedness of the elder 
daughters is insisted upon as fully as in the typical story itself, and 
their punishment is brought about by the heroine after her father has 
recognised his former injustice to her. 

In a Corsican variant * the connection with the story of Peau d'Ane 
is, if possible, rendered more obvious by the actual introduction of the 
ass' skin. There the king's family is varied by the substitution of a 
son for the second daughter. He and the elder daughter reply to 
their father's enquiry in terms of the utmost extravagance and 
blasphemy ; while the heroine, on the other hand, simply answers that 
she loves her father as a submissive and devoted daughter ought to 
love a father hkc him. For this reply he expels her from home, and, 
taking her robes, embroidered in gold and silver, she sets forth. 
Having found a dead ass by the roadside she flays it, and, clad in the 
hide, she enters a nobleman's service as goatherd. One day she leads 
her flock to a retired place and dresses herself in her royal garb. She 
is seen by the king's son, who has lost his way while hunting ; and 
she flies, leaving behind a little shoe. By this she is discovered, but 
refuses to wed the prince until her father has been brought to see his 
mistake in regard to her, and is willing to be present at the marriage. 
The messengers sent to him find that his two elder children have 
dethroned him, and pent him in a dungeon into which no one can 

* Ortoli, Les Contes Populaires deV He de Corse, p. 48. 


penetrate. The heroine then requires of her lover the restoration of 
her father to his throne. This is accomplished after a short war; but 
the old king has become insane. By the heroine's incessant care and 
devotion he is at the end of a year restored to his senses, and only 
then she consents to be married. 


In the next type the adventures of the elder daughters are dropped, 
the heroine tells her father that she loves him like salt, and, after 
adventures more or less relevant to the main plot, she compels him to 
admit his injustice towards her. The simplest form of the tale is 
found in Miss Busk's collection of The Folk-Lore of Rome, * and is 
entitled '^ The Value of Salt." Here a king, after many tests, asks 
his three daughters separately how much they love him. The eldest 
answers *' As much as the bread we eat " ; the second, " As much as 
wine " ; the youngest, " As much as salt." The king, angered with 
the reply of the last, shuts her up in a wing of the palace by herself, 
resolved never to see her again. But she finds means to speak to the 
cook, whom she induces one day to serve up to the king a dinner with- 
out salt. The king cannot eat anything, and in this way he learns 
to understand the value of salt, and how great was the love of his 
youngest child. Similarly, in a Swabian anecdote, a fragment of a 
folk-tale, given by Meier,t a king makes the usual enquiry of his 
daughter— only one is mentioned — and is told in reply that she loves 
him like salt. He is offended, but does not expel the heroine. Soon 
after, at a feast, she contrives that the dishes shall all be sent up 
unseasoned with salt, and so convinces her father of the wisdom of her 

Most of the variants of this type, however, take the heroine through 
a series of adventures before she is able to prove herself right. Pro- 
bably the greater number follow the stories already cited from Agenais 
and Corsica in grafting a version of Peau d'Ane upon the trunk of 

* p. 403. 

t Deutsche VolJamdrchen aus Schwaben, Story No. 27, p. 99. 


the tale. Dr. Kohler has brought several of these together in a note 
above mentioned to the variant of the King Lear type given by Blade.* 
I have already cited that story so much at length that I need now 
only mention the differences of a few of these variants ; premising, 
however, that the elder daughters' histories being dropped after the 
heroine's expulsion in all the forms of this type, there is no illtreatment 
by them of the father, and, consequently, no intervention by the heroine 
to vindicate him. In the Venetian tale,t the king orders the heroine 
to be taken into a desert place and put to death, her heart and eyes 
being brought to him in proof of the execution of his command. The 
servant entrusted with the foul work deceives him with the heart and 
eyes of a bitch, having let his daughter go. The maiden meets an 
old crone, by whom we are doubtless to understand a white witch, or 
an Italian " Fata." This personage gives her a berry, which, put 
into her bosom, turns her into a little old woman. Thus disguised 
she takes service as a henwife at a king's palace ; but the king's son 
watches and discovers her real character. He marries her, and her 
father is bidden to the wedding feast. She arranges that salt is 
omitted from all the dishes put before him. He cannot eat, and in 
remorse tells the story of his conduct towards his youngest daughter, 
confessing that he was wrong. I have not had the opportunity of 
examining the Spanish, Flemish, and Hungarian tales mentioned by 
Kohler, but from his analysis they seem to follow the general course 
of the Venetian tale. In the first of these the executioners carry back 
to the king one of the heroine's toes and a phial full of a chicken's 
blood as guarantees of their fidelity, and she becomes a gooseherd. In 
the Flemish and Hungarian tales the answers of the two elder 
daughters differ slightly, and the heroine is not ordered to death but 
simply expelled ; and in the former the plot follows a well-known 
variation of the Peau d'Ane story. There the heroine, taking service 
at a castle, appears thrice at religious worship clad as a princess, 
leaving behind her each time a different article, by which at last she 
is recognised. The articles dropped in the tale in question are a shoe, 

* Blade, op. cit. p. 152. 

t Bemoni, Fiahe Popolari Venezianc, Story No. 14, p. 68. 


a glove, and a ring. In a Tuscan tale published by Signor Nerucci,* 
the heroine is cursed and driven away by her father. Her nurse 
accompanies her for a while, and buys the skin of an old woman 
recently dead as a disguise for her. The maiden enters the service of 
another king ; but she is, as in the Venetian variant, discovered by his 

In the Sicilian version f several interesting variations occur. It is 
the elder sisters who contrive the heroine's escape from the death to 
which her father has condemned her. They provide a bitch, which is 
killed, and the heroine's shift, bearing the marks of blows, is dipped 
in its blood, and carried back to the king, together with the beast's 
tongue. Meantime the girl falls in with a " Savage Man," to whom 
she tells her story. He takes her home and feeds her. The next 
morning as she dresses she hears a turkey-cock on the windows of a 
royal palace opposite, warning her that in vain she adorns herself, for 
the savage man will eat her. This she tells her patron, and the 
following day, according to his advice, when the turkey repeats his 
song, she replies that she will make a pillow of his feathers and a 
mouthful of his flesh, for she will marry his master. The turkey, 
hearing this, starts with fear, and his feathers fall out. The king's 
son, seeing him naked, is astonished, and watches. The day after he 
witnesses a repetition of the scene, and falls in love with the heroine, 
whom he marries with her patron's consent. The savage man, by his 
own directions, is put to death before the wedding, and his flesh and 
blood strewn about his dwelling, where they turn to gold and jewels. 
The heroine's father attends the feast, with the usual result. 

The brothers Grimm J give an Austrian story, which wears a some- 
what more literary shape. Here the heroine's father exclaims, " If 
thou love me like salt, thy love shall be rewarded with salt!" 
Dividing the kingdom between the two elder daughters, he therefore 

* Sessanta Novelle Popolari Montalesi, Story No. 13, p. 106. See also Com- 
paretti, NoveUlne Popolari Italianc, Story No. 61, vol. i. p. 264. 

f ritre, Fiahc Novelle e Racconti Popolarl Slciliani, Story No. 10, vol. i. 
p. 83. An English translation in Crane, Italian Popular Tales, p. 333. In a 
variant the ill-omened bird is a parrot. Pitre, p. 90. 

% Kinder unci Uansmdrchen, Story No. 179, 7th edition, Berlin, 1880, p. 614. 
Margaret Hunt's English translation, vol. ii. p. 282. 


binds a sack of salt on the back of the youngest, and drives her forth 
into the forest. She is there found by an old woman, and taken as her 
gooseherd, and is provided with an old woman's skin as a disguise. 
After a while she is discovered by a nobleman's son as she washes at the 
well, and with the connivance of her mistress ; but her father and 
mother have to come and fetch her, after confessing the wrong that 
has been done. 

A Hindoo variant * brings the outcast princess through an entirely 
different series of events. She is carried out by her father's orders 
into the jungle, and there abandoned. God sends her food miracu- 
lously, and at length she arrives at a place in which lies a king's son 
dead, his body stuck full of needles. She pulls them out. When she 
has partly got through her task she buys a slave, whom she leaves to 
watch the body while she rests. The work is now all but completed, 
the needles in the prince's eyes only remaining. The slave pulls them 
out, in spite of the heroine's injunctions to the contrary, and the youth 
at once comes to life again. The slave pretends to have herself 
accomplished his deliverance, and he weds her instead of the heroine, 
who becomes degraded to slavery. The real facts, however, are ulti- 
mately made known to the prince by means of some puppets that come 
out of a " sun-jewel box," procured for the heroine by him. He accord- 
ingly puts the slave away and weds his true deliverer. She invites 
her father and mother to the wedding, and compels recognition of her 
real character as in the European tales. But it should be noticed that 
in most of the latter the heroine's identity is not disclosed to her 
father until he has made his confession under the belief that she is 
dead : whereas, in the story now under consideration, there is no 
attempt at concealment. 

Among the Basques f a king's son proposes to marry one of the 
three daughters of another king. The latter king asks his daughters 
how much they love him ; but none of their answers please him. The 
eldest says, "As much as I do my little finger; " the second, " As much 
as my middle finger ; " the youngest, " As much as the bread loves the 
salt." The king, in a rage, orders the youngest to death ; but the 

* Maive Stokes, hidian Fairy Tales, Story No. 23, p. 164. 
t Webster, Basque Legends, p. 1G5. 


servants entrusted with the duty kill a horse and carry its heart to 
him. The maiden lives in ihe forest " on the plants which the birds 
brought her, and on the flowers which the bees brought her." This is 
perhaps a less direct expression of the statement in the Hindoo tale 
that God sent her food. The king's son (apparently the one before 
referred to) finds the girl while hunting, and marries her. At the 
wedding-feast she gives her father bread without salt, and then dis- 
covers herself. The two elder sisters suffer poetical justice by remain- 
ing old maids. * 

In a Tirolese variant f a king requires his three daughters to bring 
him each, as a birthday present, some very necessary thing. The 
youngest presents him with a little salt, whereupon he drives her away. 
She has her revenge, however, for, after a while, becoming her father's 
cook, she serves up his food without salt ; and this, of course, leads 
to explanations. The termination of this story approximates closely 
to the one I have taken as the type of this class ; but the catastrophe 
differs. The latter has more resemblance to a tale found in the south 
of Italy,! where a king going to a fair asks his three daughters what 
he shall bring them back. One chooses a handkerchief, another a 
pair of boots, this being possibly the only opportunity a king's 
daughters would have of indulging in such articles of adornment; 
but the youngest demands a quantity of salt. The two elder are 
envious of her, and persuade their father that the salt is to salt his 
heart; whereupon he drives her from home. She disguises herself in 
a skin, and takes service at a farmhouse, her duty being to take care 
of the turkeys. While she is pasturing them, she takes off her 
disguise, and the turkeys cry out in rhymes with astonishment. She 
is annoyed, and strikes one of them dead. This happens more than 
once, and her mistress' suspicions are aroused. She accordingly 

* In another story a girl is condemned to death for the supposed robbery of 
her master's treasure, but is spared, and an ass' heart taken back to the king 
instead of hers. She clothes herself in the ass' skin, and the usual course of 
Peau d'Ane is followed. Ibid. p. 158. 

f Zingerle, Kinder und Hausmdrclien aus Th'ol, Story No. 31, cited by Kohler 
in Blade, ojk cit. p. 154. 

X Finamore, Tradiziotii Pojwlari Abruzzesi, vol. i. p. 130. 


watches her, and, on discovering what really happens, she tells the 
king's son, who arrives in the nick of time. He insists on taking 
the heroine into his service, and, of course, catches her performing 
her toilette, and marries her. Her father comes to the wedding feast, 
where, deprived of salt, he is brought to reconciliation with the 
heroine, and punishes her jealous sisters. 

The Cinderella episode reappears in a Portuguese tale * in a form 
not quite so common as some of those already cited, but somewhat 
better fitted to the framework. The two elder sisters in this tale 
respond, as usual, satisfactorily to their father's question. The 
youngest and best beloved, on the contrary, declares that she loves 
him as food loves salt; whereupon he drives her from the palace. 
She takes service as cook at another royal residence, and there slily 
puts a very small ring of great price into a pie. This ring, when 
found, will fit nobody but herself ; and the king's son falls in love 
with her, suspecting she is of noble family. This leads him to watch ; 
and one day his suspicions become certainties, by finding her dressed 
in the garb of a princess. He now obtains his father's leave to 
marry her, but she stipulates that she shall herself cook the wedding 
feast. Her father attends the marriage; and she renders his food 
unpalatable by cooking it without salt. On her revealing herself, he 
confesses his fault in the usual edifying manner.f 

* Theophilo Braga, Contos Tradidonaes do Povo Portuguez^ vol. i. p. 122, 
vol. ii. p. 202. 

t While these sheets are going through the press the eighth volume of the 
Bihlioteca de las Tradiciones Populares Espanolag has appeared. It contains 
a collection of Asturian folk-lore, obtained by Senor L. Giner Arivau from a 
young woman of Proaza, a small hamlet in the province of Oviedo. Among the 
tales I find (p. 175) a variant of The Value of Salt type. As in the Basque 
the heroine answers her father that he is dear to her as the bread to the salt. A 
bitch's eyes are taken to the king in proof of his daughter's execution. Mean- 
while she buys from a shepherd his clothes, and takes service at a palace. The 
turkeys put under her charge are lost in admiration of her beauty, when she dis- 
closes her real self, and forget to feed. The consequence is that every day one 
of them dies. This rouses the suspicions of the king's son, and leads to her 
marriage with him. The heroine's father is invited to the wedding and brought 
to a confession of his wrong-doing by being served with a loaf made without 
salt. Senor Arivau in a note refers to a parallel story in the Panchatantra. 
Unfortunately the usefulness of Benfey's admirable edition of that work is marred 



If in the foregoing types we deem the heroine innocent and ill-used, 
still more strongly will our sympathies be excited in the same direction 
by the type on whose consideration we are now entering. 1 have 
ventured to call it the Joseph type ; but the propriety of that designa- 
tion is not, perhaps, beyond question. The Biblical story of Joseph 
and his Brethren does undoubtedly belong to this genus, and is by 
far its best-known example. It is not, however, the simplest ; for, as 
in many of the variants cited under the two preceding types, other 
folk-tales have been pieced into it and become, in the memories of all 
who are familiar with it, an inextricable portion of its beauty and 
pathos. Unlike King Lear in this particular, it resembles it in being 
itself wrought into and forming part of a longer narrative. Whether 
the early Hebrew traditions underwent this fate at the hands of an 
artist as conscious as Geoffrey of Monmouth I do not now care to 
enquire. If the real character of the imbedded legends be recognized, 
this further question may be left to be debated by students of litera- 
ture and theologians. Meantime, our familiarity with the story must 
be my justification for treating it as the type of this division of the 
subject. Divested of all episodes it runs thus :— The youngest* of a 
band of brethren falls under the displeasure of his father and brothers 
on account of a dream, in which they have appeared to bow down and 
make obeisance to him. His father sends him to his brethren, and 
they, having first of all conspired to slay him, abandon that intention 

by the want of an index. I have, however, hastily searched through it, but have 
failed to find the narrative in question. As epitomised by Senor Arivau it is as 
follows: A king named Bali drives his daughter from his house, because in 
greeting him she prayed that he might enjoy the good which was destined for 
him, while her elder sister had prayed that he might be ever victorious. The 
maiden goes away, marries a prince who is enchanted, succeeds in disenchanting 
him, returns to his country, and, honoured by his father and all his friends, lives 
happily for many years. This would appear to be a variant of the next type, 
and its relations with the Indian stories examined below demand further enquiry. 
* So I interpret Gen. chap, xxxvii. and especially verse 3. To recognise the 
existence of a still younger brother blunts the point of the tale. This is a not 
unimportant consideration in reference to the mode in which the whole narrative 
has been put together. 

Vol. 4.— Part 4. y 


and sell him as a slave. Like the executioners in some of the stories 
already examined, they kill a beast (in this case, a kid), and, dipping 
his coat in the blood, they bring it home to their father in proof of 
the hero's death. The hero himself, sold into a far country, goes 
through adventures there which end in his becoming the ruler of the 
land, and seeing his dream accomplished, when his own family are 
driven, by stress of famine, to bow before him, and practically to 
accept their life at his hands. 

It is related among the Turanian tribes of South Siberia,* that 
the three sons of a poor man and woman go upon a mountain to 
dream. The two eldest dream of riches, but the third dreams that 
his father and mother are lean camels, his two brothers hungry wolves 
running towards the mountains, while he himself, between the sun and 
moon, wears the morning star upon his forehead. The father orders 
the brothers to kill the youngest. They dare not do so, but only 
expel him from home, killing the dog instead, the blood of which 
they take to their father to show their compliance. The hero wanders 
about, and at length comes to a hut, where a lame old man and a 
bhnd old woman dwell, by whom he is adopted as their son. Mounted 
on the old man's wonderful horse, he vanquishes a demon, and cuts 
him open. From the monster's stomach come forth innumerable 
animals, men, treasures, and other objects, including caskets contain- 
ing the old woman's eyes. The old man endows him with the power 
of transforming himself into various animal shapes at will. In one 
of these he wins a wife and much gold. In another, two lean camels 
appear, who are his parents of whom he had dreamt. These he loads 
with a sack. He takes to himself another wife ; and, living now with 
one wife and now with the other, he gives them the flesh of his own 
father to eat, thus revenging himself for his previous ill-usage. 

In considering these stories it must be remembered that the 
adventures of The Outcast Child after expulsion are all episodic, and 
therefore liable to endless variation. The framework and substance of 
the narrative are the cause and facts of the expulsion, and the ultimate 
vindication of the hero or heroine. The Altaic mountaineers, who are 

* Cited by De Gubernatis, Zoological Mythology, vol, i. p. 139, from Radloff, 
Pi'oben der VoUislitteratur der Turkischen Stdmme siid-Sihirlens. 


responsible for the variant just referred to, are in a much lower stratum 
of civilization than were the Hebrews when the "history" of Joseph 
took final shape. Hence the events assume a much ruder and more 
marvellous form. There is, however, sufficient agreement to prove 
the essential identity of the two tales, while the differences preclude 
any suggestion of borrowing by the heathen Tartars from Christian 
or Jewish sources. I have mentioned this variant first because it is 
impossible to assume any such borrowing. Some of the European 
traditions I am about to cite under this and the following type 
contain similarities to the Biblical narrative which may to some 
readers seem incredible as independent growths in the face of the 
long dominance of Christianity in the West. Hence it is that this 
Siberian story, and some others I shall refer to later on, are of value. 
Take, for example, the Sicilian variant called The King of France. ''^ 
Here the king has three daughters, one of whom dreams that she has 
become queen, and seven kings, including her own father, bow down 
before her. Her father sends her into a wood to be put to death, but 
she is set free, despite his commands. The rest of the story follows 
the Sicilian tale of Water and Salt, given under the previous type, 
except that the Deus ex machind is a parrot instead of a turkey- 

In the variants of this type, it will be noticed, the expelled child is 
sometimes of one sex and sometimes of the other. It is natural that 
where a father takes offence at a daughter the after events should 
bear more affinity with those of the last preceding type than in the 
other case. Accordingly other stories of this genus, beside the King 
of France, exhibit this affinity. One current among the people of 
the Abruzzif follows the same lines. We are told that a certain 
king has three daughters, two of whom are ugly, and the other (the 
youngest) beautiful. The two former, driven by envy, conspire to 
have their sister put to death. For this purpose they tell their father 
that they have dreamt she would dishonour them by eloping with a 
common soldier. The father accordingly orders one of his generals 

♦ Pitre, op. cit. vol. i. p. 89. Unfortunately only an outline is given, the story 
being treated as a variant of Water and Salt, cited above. See also vol. iv. p. 370, 
t Finamore, ojp. cit. vol. i. p. 83. 



to take her into '' the wood of the Savage King," and there put her 
to death, bringing him, as a token of obedience, her ensanguined 
vest. The general takes pity on her, lets her go, and brings back 
her vest covered with the blood of a puppy. The Savage King (who 
gives his name to the story) feeds on human flesh. His son, while 
hunting, finds the maiden, and brings her home. Struck with her 
beauty, he prevails on his father to abstain from gratifying his 
cannibal passion, and to treat her as a daughter. But a dove, 
belonging to a neighbouring king, whose palace was in undesirable 
proximity to this ogre's dwelling, declines to believe in his friendly 
professions towards the heroine, and taunts her with the expectation 
that she will be eaten after all. This is nothing but spite because 
the maiden declines to feed her ; and, taught by the Savage King, 
she replies the next day tliat she will be the dove's master's wife. 
The dove sheds all its feathers with rage; and this, as in Dr. Pitre's 
variants, brings about the marriage. The heroine's father is invited 
to the wedding feast. It is proposed that tales shall be told, and she 
takes the opportunity to extort her father's acknowledgment of his 

The Sicilian tale of The Holy Father ^ takes a similar turn. Here a 
merchant, having a son and daughter, sets out on a journey, taking 
the son with him. He commits his daughter to the care of a cleric, 
who spends on his own enjoyment the money consigned to him for the 
girl's support, and thrusts her into a dungeon. On her father's return 
he accuses her of wicked practices {cattivi costwni), and the father 
directs her brother to put her to death. The latter, however, sets her 
free in a wood, and killing a dog takes its blood homo to his father, 
who drinks it ferociously. The maiden arrives at the palace of 
another holy father, who treats her kindly. A turkey plays the 
part of a prophet of evil. Ultimately she marries a king's son, and 
by the holy father's advice she invites her father, her brother and the 
wicked priest to the wedding. There, by treating her father and the 
priest differently from the other guests, she provokes explanations, 
which end in the punishment of the ecclesiastic by burning. I should 

* Pitre, oj?. cit. p. 88. 


add that her patron has been, in the meantime, by his own directions, 
flung into a heated oven and there converted into crowns, apples and 

It is probable that we may ascribe the identity of the heroine's 
adventures in these tales to the obvious causes of nearness in geo- 
graphical situation and in blood of the peasants who narrate them. Too 
much stress, therefore, must not be laid upon this identity. But it 
may be expected that episodes, both of The Savage King class and of 
the Peau d'Ane class, will be found in stories of the present type in 
other countries. The adventures of a heroine are usually more limited 
in range than those of a hero ; and the adventures just referred to are 
such as would fit easily into the framework of the tale. Moreover, 
they have a sort of property in that framework, as being already found 
in more than one type of The Outcast Child group. Waiving, how- 
ever, the question whether we are likely to find these episodes, or 
either of them as a whole, elsewhere, some light may perhaps be 
thrown on that of The Savage King. Let us take first the incident of 
the bird, whether dove, turkey, or parrot, whose extraordinary conduct 
brings about the happy result of all marchen. If the creature's pro- 
ceedings could be so interpreted as to render probable an earlier con- 
nection with the Peau d'Ane plot, more than one of the problems 
connected with this type of the story would be solved. And, indeed, 
something might perhaps be made of the fact that the heroine of 
many Peau d'Ane tales becomes a gooseherd, and that the animals 
under her care betray her by uttering articulate self-congratulations 
upon the beauty and grace of their warden. But this must not be 
pressed. Peau d'Ane belongs, there can be little doubt, to an essen- 
tially distinct group; and its relations to The Outcast Child are to be 
explained rather as the accidental blending of the two separate stories, 
in consequence of the obvious resemblance of the heroine's circum- 
stances at one point, than as the natural outgrowth of the narrative. 
The Brazilian story of The King Andrade, given by Professor 
Romero,* however, enables us to go one step further back. There the 
king, with prurient folly, directs his three daughters every morning to 

* Contos Pop, do Brazil, Story No. 3, p. 12. 


relate their dreams. The following morning one of the maidens tells 
him that she has dreamed that in a few days she will change her con- 
dition, and that five kings, and among them her own father, will kiss 
her hand. This dream returns the next night, and on hearing it a 
second time the king orders her out to be put to death, directing that 
her little finger shall be brought to him in sign of the executioners' 
compliance. She is, of course, spared, but loses her finger. She 
enters a cave in the wood, and at length finds herself in a rich palace, 
inhabited alone by a parrot, whose voice only she hears through a 
closed door. After some days a fair youth appears for a moment, to 
give her the key of the room where the parrot dwells, and to tell her 
to open it and answer the parrot when it speaks. The bird compli- 
ments her in verse, and the heroine replies (also in verse) that she 
will make a head-dress of its rich feathers. The parrot forthwith is 
disenchanted into the youth who had just appeared to her. He 
marries her, and invites five kings to the wedding. Her father is 
among them, but she refuses to give him her hand to kiss, as she had 
done to the others ; and this brings about the customary explanations. 
In the incident of the parrot as found in this variant, I think we may 
catch a glimpse of an earlier form of that of the dove in The Savage 
King. It is not that the episode is less complex, and leads with 
greater directness to the solution of the plot. Simplicity is not always 
a note of antiquity. But the union of human nature with that of the 
lower animals is more complete in the parrot than in the turkey or 
dove of the Italian narrator ; and this union is known to be 
thoroughly in harmony with primitive thought. One of the first 
notions entertained by mankind, of which we have any record, was that 
all animals — nay, even trees, flowers, rocks, the heavenly bodies, and 
every object known to sense — were actuated by reason and feelings 
precisely analogous to our own. But this imputation of the charac- 
teristics of man to brutes and things inanimate is more than primitive : 
it is the perpetually recurring will-o'-the-wisp of our imagination. 
When man's essential distinction comes to be recognised by widening 
knowledge, the ideas of metempsychosis and afterwards of enchant- 
ment, grow up as a support for the conviction that still haunts us. 
In The Savage King episode the bird is a bird only, though of re- 


markable powers ; but in the Portuguese tale lie is the bridegroom also, 
though for this purpose we are told he was disenchanted. This allu- 
sion to enchantment is a solitary one ; and no explanation is offered, 
nor any account of how he became bewitched. May we not suppose 
that the enchantment is a late gloss upon the bolder animism that 
even yet shines through this story ? The supposition would be quite 
reconcileable with a theory, were it broached, that the simplicity of the 
episode is due to the trituration of ages, and that much, or at least 
something, has been forgotten. Without pronouncing a definite opinion, 
I may observe that some colour is lent to such a suggestion by the fact 
that the parrot-man of The King Andrade is in The Savage King split 
up into four persons, namely, the Savage King himself, his son, the 
dove, and her master. In other stories the maiden's protector and his 
son are identified ; and thus three persons take the place of the one in 
the Brazilian-Portuguese version. None of these persons are really 
necessary, save the bird and the bridegroom ; but they have not been 
introduced by the peasant story-teller at random. Had that been the case 
they would scarcely have been found in more than a single variant. 
Whence, then, have they been derived ? In the first place they may 
constitute the genuine form assumed by the various turns of the plot 
after having been handed down by tradition during a long period. 
It would appear, if this be so, that not only, as in The King Andrade, 
has the original thought been obscured in the course of time : the 
original cast of the subordinate parts of the story has also gradually 
been forgotten ; and some of the more incredible incidents have been 
replaced by others making a smaller draft upon the rustic imagina- 

Yet it is evident that some reservation must be made as regards the 
slaughter of the Savage Man in the Sicilian tale of Water and Salt, and 
its consequence — truly not a small draft on the imagination. But the 
Savage Man is clearly regarded from the first as a being of a different 
order ; and it may be that the incident is a relic of something com- 
pletely dropped out of The King Andrade. The history of Sicily and 
Southern Italy, the home of The Savage King, may suggest another 
theory. Nothing would seem more likely than the direct importation 
of Eastern tales into this neighbourhood ; and the episode in question 


may be the effect of the union of one such Eastern tale with another 
of the same type, but of indigenous origin. This is, of course, mere 
speculation ; but as such it may be worth bearing in mind, not only 
while investigating the group of stories wherewith we are now occupied, 
but also in connection with the general subject of the migration of folk- 
tales. I am unable at present to point to any oriental variant precisely 
answering the description required ; but the Romance of the Four 
Dervishes * contains one which has a more or less remote resemblance 
to it. There a king has seven daughters, whom he impiously tells 
that all their good fortune depends upon his life. Six of them profess 
to agree with this sentiment ; but the seventh and youngest dissents, 
telling her father that they both alike owe their positions to the King 
of Kings, and that the destiny of every one is with himself. The 
king, becoming angry, causes her to be stripped of her jewels and 
carried into a wilderness, where she is left to perish. There, after 
three days, she is found by a hermit, who relieves her wants, and 
thenceforth regularly brings her the produce of his day's begging in 
the city. After a few days she takes down her hair to oil and comb 
it ; and as she opens the plaits a fine pearl drops out. This the 
hermit sells for her in the city, bringing her the price. Then she 
desires to erect a small dwelling on the spot ; and by the hermit's 
advice she begins to dig the foundation. This leads to the discovery 
of a buried treasure, with which she enters on the erection of a magni- 
ficent palace. The news of these extensive buildings in the waste 
reaches her father's ear. He is surprised, and makes enquiry, but 
cannot learn who it is that has commenced these great works. By 
her permission and appointment he comes to see for himself, and is 
presented with gifts of fabulous value. Both he and her sisters, 
whom she also sends for, are naturally confounded at her good 

* This is a Persian work translated into Urdu by Mir Amman, of Delhi. 
There are several English versions from the latter, but none from the Persian 
original. That which I have used is by Lewis Ferdinand Smith, made in the 
early part of the present century. In the Lucknow edition of 1870 the story 
occurs on p. .59. I have compared this version with that by Edward B. Eastwick, 
Hertford, 1852. 


In the foregoing nurrative the hermit plays much the same part as 
the Savage Man of Sicily. It is he who finds the heroine in the 
desert, and rescues her from death. It is by following his instructions 
that she obtains riches, and is enabled to triumph over her father's 
perversity. If at the last the hermit does not suffer death in order to 
provide the wealth, at all events when the wealth has been got he sinks 
into oblivion. An Indian variant * of near akin, however, reverses, 
to a great extent, the parts of the heroine and her protector, endowing 
him with the wealth obtained by her sagacity and good fortune. A 
Badshaw one morning calls his seven daughters before him, and asks, 
'' By whom are you supported ? " The six elder answer that they 
are dependent upon himself, but the youngest says, as in The Four 
Dervishes, that she is supported by her own fate. Irritated with this 
the Badshaw replies, " Whomsoever I meet with to-morrow, I will 
make you over to him, you ungrateful child ! " Accordingly, he 
marries her to a wood-cutter, the first person he sees the next 
day. The heroine proves an excellent wife. Having discovered her 
husband's wood to be sandal-wood chips from a great, tree in the 
forest, she induces him to cut the tree down, and he commences a 
lucrative trade with the wood. It then occurs to her that it was the 
practice of some men to bury their wealth at the feet of such trees. 
She digs at the roots, and finds four great jars full of money. In a 
few years the wood-cutter and his wife become wealthy ; they erect a 
stately palace, and give a grand feast to the people of the neighbour- 
ing villages. Some of the guests chance to niention that the once 
opulent Badshaw had been reduced to poverty, and compelled to do 
menial work for his livelihood. At this news the lady is penetrated 
with sorrow. She orders the excavation of a large tank, such as is 
common in Hindoo villages, and causes only such persons as are 
really in want and without food to be employed. Among these the 
Badshaw becomes a hired labourer. He is so changed as to be 
recognized by no one; but the manager of the works, seeing that he 

* Vemieux, The Hermit of Motee Jhnrna,or Pearl-spring (Calcutta, 1873), 
p. 103. I am indebted to Mr. W. A. Clouston for an abstract of this tale, as 
well as for other kind assistance and sympathy, which I desire most gratefully to 


is unfit for such toil, represents the case to his mistress, and the man 
is brought before her. It is her own father. She makes herself 
known to him, weeping at the memory of his past prosperity con- 
trasted with his present destitution. But he shall no longer want : 
he and her sisters will henceforth live with her in comfort. And 
she reminds him of what she before asserted, namely, that every one 
lives according to the destiny prescribed for each by an all-wise God. 
Other Indian variants, however, though manifestly bound by very 
close ties to the foregoing, lead us far away from The Savage King. 
The story of The Fan Prince * takes its name from an episode 
related to a cycle of tales to which Cupid and Psyche belongs. It 
runs thus : A certain king calls all his seven daughters one day 
before him, and inquires who gives them food, and by whose per- 
mission they eat it ? Six of them return the expected answer, 
ascribing their food to him; but the youngest says, "God gives me 
my food, and by my own permission I eat it." Her enraged parents 
send her away to the jungle, and cause her to be there abandoned. 
God, however, sends her food, and builds for her a beautiful palace 
during the night, filling it with angels as servants. Similarly He feeds 
the heroine of the Hindoo story already cited under The Value of Salt 
type ; and so also the Hebrew poet writes : " He giveth unto his 
beloved in sleep." Her father hears of her sudden good fortune, and 
acknowledges that she has told the truth — it is God who gives us 
everything. Here the story might have ended; the plot is quite 
complete, and the Fan Prince has no connection with it. But it is, 
as we have seen, one of the characteristics of The Outcast Child that 
it lends itself with remarkable ease to the inweaving of other tales — 
if, indeed, from the bareness of its outline it does not, as a matter 
of art, demand some such treatment. A very long and involved 
Kashmiri narrative affords a striking instance of this. It is called 
The Prince that was three times Shipwrecked,f and gives the adven- 
tures of the youngest of four sons. The king, their father, wishing 

* Maive Stokes, op. cit. Story No. 25, p. 193. This is told by a Hindu woman. 

t The Indian Antiquary, vol. xiv. p. 239. This story was obtained by the 
Rev. J. Ilinton Knowles,of the Church Missionary Society stationed at Srinagar, 
Kashmir, from a Brahman, who in turn had it from a Mohammedan. 


to test their wisdom and talents, called them all to him, and asked 
them singly by whose good fortune it was that he possessed so large 
and powerful a kingdom, and was enabled to govern it so wisely and 
well. Three of them, of course, reply, ''It is by your own good 
fortune, king, our father, that you have this kingdom and this 
power." But the youngest, with amazing impudence, claims for 
himself — not for Heaven or for destiny, still less for his sire — 
the greatness and power of the king. His father orders him 
away from his presence; and the boy, needing no second bidding, 
hastens to quit the palace. Nor, though the king afterwards relents 
and recalls him, can his messengers succeed in inducing him to return. 
His wife — for, though young, he is already married — follows him, to 
share his fate. He is now started on a strange career. He under- 
goes three shipwrecks; marries three more wives; vanquishes envious 
brothers-in-law, who claim from him the honour of killing a jackal, a 
bear, and a leopard; slays an ogre of the Punchkin breed; and, 
finally, contracts leprosy from the sting of an insect. Meantime, his 
wives have all met in a garden, which the coming of each in turn has 
made to bloom anew. As they will not utter a word, the king, who 
owns the garden, proclaims great rewards for him who will succeed in 
obtaining speech from them. The hero recovers his own health as 
well as the use of their tongues in the process. He marries, as his 
fifth wife — these Eastern heroes are lavish of their matrimonial 
engagements — the king's only daughter ; and, having learnt that his 
father's kingdom has been conquered by strangers and his father and 
all the royal family taken prisoners, he gathers an army, and goes 
forth to make war on the victors. He succeeds in overthrowing his 
enemies, and restoring his father to the throne, wringing thus from 
the aged monarch an acknowledgment of the justice of his claim to 
the good fortune by which his parent held his realm and power. 

This story is undoubtedly a needless jumble of adventures, but it 
may serve as an illustration, not merely of the ease with which our 
subject admits episodes, but, further, of the greatly wider field for 
doing and suffering opened when the expelled child is a son. Of this 
it is not necessary to cite any more examples ; I shall therefore only 
allude to one or two other variants because of their intrinsic interest. 


Ill The Prince's Dream, given by Von Hahn,* the hero's adventures 
belong to the myth embodied in The Forbidden Chamber group, and 
to that division of the group, which I have in a former paper called 
The Teacher and his Scholar type ; suh-type Scabby John. The cause 
of offence here also, as in several variants examined before, is a dream 
in which the hero imagines the king, his father, stepping down from 
his throne, and placing himself, his youngest son, upon it. The 
two elder brothers have only been favoured with commonplace visions 
of marriage with the daughters of neighbouring monarchs. After 
residing with an ogre, and escaping from him by the aid of a speaking 
horse and a dog, the youth clothes himself in a skin of an old man and 
returns thus disguised to his father's court. The father, meantime, 
•has, with one of those fatuous caprices that in these tales lead kings 
so often to their doom, dug an enormous ditch, and proclaimed that 
he who successfully jumps it shall have the crown — paying, if he fail, 
the penalty of his ambition with his life. The hero, of course, per- 
forms the feat, and thus fulfils the prophecy of his dream. 

A curious variation of the starting point occurs in a South Slavonic 
story of The Emperor's Son-in-law, given by Dr. Krauss out of Vuk's 
collection from Dalmatia, Herzegovina, Servia, and the neighbouring 
districts.! There the boy is beaten and turned out of doors by his 
parents, not for telling the wonderful dream he professes to have had, 
but for refusing to do so. He is found in the street by a Tartar, who 
in turn, on learning from him why he weeps, enquires what really was 
his dream. The hero replies that he would not tell even the emperor 
himself. The Tartar repeating this to the emperor, that august per- 
sonage sends for the boy, and being himself unable to extract the 
information exhibits his imperial power by casting him into prison. 
The place of incarceration is a room in the castle next to the apart- 
ments of the emperor's daughter. The partition, as is usual in such 
cases, is extremely thin and of so elastic a character that our hero is 

* GriecMsche und Alhanesische Mdrchen, Story No. 45, vol. i. p. 258; vol. ii. 
p. 247. 

t r. S. Krauss, Sagen und Mdrchen der Siidslaven, vol. ii. Story No. 129, 
p. 290. Where this story was obtained is not indicated ; probably it is from 


able to break through it at night and afterwards to close up the breach 
so that his mode of access to the princess's room is undiscoverable. 
On entering he finds the lady lying asleep surrounded by her attendants, 
and a feast upon the table. He eats the food and changes the 
position of the candles which stand by the bedside. As this visit is 
repeated nightly, the princess watches, and at length finds out the 
intruder, with whom she promptly falls in love. After a while she 
comes of age, and the Emperor issues a proclamation that the hero 
who can fling a certain staff (wurfstab) over the battlements of the 
city shall marry her. After all the nobles' sons have tried in vain, 
the imprisoned youth is fetched at the maiden's suggestion ; and he 
accomplishes the condition. The marriage is then solemnized ; but 
the viziers' sons are envious, and invite the bridegroom to a feast, 
with the stipulation that he is to bring his wife and a thousand 
followers, and if they do not succeed in consuming all tlie food pro- 
vided, both wife and followers are to be forfeit to them. He succeeds 
by the aid of followers of supernatural power, whom he meets with by 
the way and induces to accompany him. The viziers' sons then 
challenge him to one more trial, namely, a trial of swiftness between 
one of his followers and an old winged woman. Out of this our Sla- 
vonic Thor also comes victorious, and carries off his adversaries' wives 
and treasure. 

A Wallachian example of this type, referred to by Von Hahn,* 
explains the hero's reluctance to tell his dream by the fact that he 
had dreamed he would become Emperor, and fear of the consequences 
deters him from repeating it even to his father. Doubtless we are to 
understand some such explanation above, and it is easy to believe that 
under a despotic government the narrative might very naturally take 
this modification. Notwithstanding, however, the large diversity of 
detail in the specimens I have referred to there can be but one opinion 
as to the substantial identity of the framework of all the stories. The 
catastrophe is, in the majority of instances I have met with, brought 
about by a dream. In one case, indeed, the dream is a feigned 
one ; but that very instance serves to emphasize the conformity 

* Von Hahn, op. cit. vol. ii. p. 247. I have not seen the text of this story. 


of the narrative to the type in the jealousy of the wicked 
sisters. Generally the meaning of the dream is clear, and in Western 
Europe, at least, there is no attempt to veil or symbolize it. The 
conduct of the brothers or sisters is ordinarily indifferent, and they 
then retire into the background of the story. Occasionally they are 
actively hostile to the hero ; but sometimes, as in Water and Salt, 
they contrive his escape. Both these attitudes are illustrated in the 
story of Joseph by the vacillating counsels of the ten elder sons, who, 
moreover, themselves represent the executioners. This is in accord with 
the simple pastoral scenes of the early part of the narrative. It would be 
an interesting enquiry, were this the place for it, how far such stories as 
these have influenced the relations of analogous bands of brothers in 
other tales. The treachery of the two elder brothers in Queen Mar- 
mot, a Tuscan story collected by Signer Nerucci,* is suggestive of 
the sufferings of the Hebrew youth ; and this is only one of many 
similar traditions. 

The Emperor's Son-in-law departs more widely from the type than 
any other I have mentioned. The absence of the brothers is one 
difference which brings it nearer to the type we shall next consider, 
though it is as if to balance this absence that we are treated to the 
final episode of the challenge by the viziers' sons, the former pretenders 
as we are apparently to understand, to the heroine's hand. Its poly- 
gamous indications are not unnatural in folk-lore which concerns 
viziers and pashas. 


The next type need not detain us very long. In it the hero's 
brothers and sisters have disappeared, and his own adventures have 
but little variety in the different versions with which we are about to 
deal. I propose to take as the standard the story incorporated in The 
Seven Sages and known as The Ravens,'^ which runs to the following 

* Sessanta JSovelle Popular i Montalesi, Story No. 46, p. 371. 

t I cite from the late Thomas Wright's edition of The Seven Sages, printed for 
the Percy Society from one of the two MSS. preserved in the Public Library of 
the University of Cambridge. The story is found on p. 106. An abstract of the 
other version ia verse (that published by Weber) is given by Ellis in his Early 


effect : A youth, to whom the knowledge of the language of birds 
has been given by God, is one day rowing across an arm of the sea 
with his father to a little island. As they row three ravens alight on 
the boat and make a great noise. The boy laughs, and on his father's 
asking him why, he replies that the ravens have said that he shall 
thereafter be in so high a position that his father will be glad to "gyf 
water to my honde," and his mother to fetch a towel. His father in a 
rage pitches him into the sea ; but he reaches a rock, whence he is 
rescued by a fisherman. A current, however, drives them to another 
land, and there the fisherman sells him to a noble. The king of that 
country is tormented by three ravens who constantly pursue him ; and 
at length he summons a council to determine in what manner he is to 
rid himself of them, promising his daughter in marriage to any one 
who could effectually advise him. This somewhat disproportionate 
reward is won by the hero, who informs the king that the ravens are 
two males disputing for the third, a female claimed by both, and that 
they require the king's judgment on the case. When the king has 
given his decision the birds fly away. The hero, married to the king's 
daughter, bethinks himself of his parents, who meantime have fallen 
into great poverty. In one version he is informed of this in a vision ; 
in that which I am citing, however, the knowledge is obtained by the 
much less romantic but more probable means of privy inquiries. They 
are found now living in his father-in-law's realm. The hero goes to 
the town where they dwell, puts up at an inn hard by, and sends for 
them. When they come he asks for water ; and the prophecy of the 
ravens is fulfilled. 

In the foregoing story the hero's loss and gain are alike made by 
his knowledge of the language of birds. The three ravens who require 
the king's judgment on their cause are found in several variants, and 
their number has probably duplicated itself in a way well known to 
folk-lore students, in the number of the birds whose conversation, as 
repeated by the boy, causes his father's anger. At all events this 

English Metrical Bomances, Bohn, p. 405 (this story, p, 449), from the Auchin- 
leck and Cottonian MSS. I have not seen the English prose version of The Seven 
Sages, hwil have compared a Welsh version probably derived from it {CymriL 
Fu, p. 202). None of these present any material differences in this story. 


latter number is less constant than the other. In a copy of '' The 
Seven Wise Masters,"* in a dialect of Italian, dating back to the end 
of the fourteenth century, the story of The Ravens is given with but 
few variations from the text just cited. Here the number of the pro- 
phetic birds is given as two, and they are not described as ravens. 
The father is a merchant who is taking his son with him on a voyage. 
The cause assigned for the parents' removal after the father's crime 
against his son is a famine. If we could venture to use this it would 
supply a striking analogy with the Mosaic narrative ; but to do so would 
perhaps involve assumptions we are not warranted in making, since it is 
at least possible that the famine may have been more or less consciously 
transfen-ed from the story in Genesis. No argument for the identity 
in origin of the two tales can, therefore, be founded upon it.f In this 
variant the final scene is wrought somewhat more impressively, and 
apparently with more artistic purpose, than in the type. After his 
parents have waited on the hero he seats them at table and himself 
between them, at which all present marvel. When dinner is over he 
turns to his father and asks, ** What punishment shall he have who 
has slain his own son in the sea ? " The father replies, " Death." 
" Against thyself thou hast spoken ! " exclaims his son ; but taking 
pity upon him he reveals himself and pardons the crime. 

A similar story, but elaborated in some respects, is given by 
Afanasief among his Russian stories.J The hero's name, itself an 
omen, is Basil. His father's curiosity is one day excited by the tones 
of a pet nightingale in its song. Basil, then six years of age, inter- 
prets the song as in The Ravens. This irritates both his father and 

* Libro lie ^Sette Savi di Roma, originally published in 1832 at Venice ; 
republished in Scelta di curiosita lettcrarie in 1862 at Bologna, and again by 
F. Roediger in a series of Ojyerette inedite o rare in 1883 at Florence. Its 
genuineness, though at first disputed, appears now to be established. 

t In a French version cited by Luzel, Legendes Chrstiennes de la Basse 
Bretagnc, vol. i. p. 307, the pifophet-bird is a nightingale, the country into 
which the youth is taken is Egypt, and after his father-in-law's death he mounts 
the throne, and fulfils the prediction by sending for his parents to his court. 
There is more than one suggestion of Joseph here. M. Luzel also cites another 
version in which the prophecy is uttered by two crows. 

X Leger, Recueil de Contes Fojmlaircs Slaves tradnits sur les textes originavx, 
p. 235. 


mother so much that they determine to get rid of him ; and for that 
purpose, having constructed a little canoe, they place him therein 
during the night, and thrust it out to sea. The nightingale flies out 
of its cage, and perches on the boy's shoulder. The boy is picked up 
by a passing vessel. The nightingale predicts a tempest; the captain 
disbelieves, but the storm falls, breaking the masts and rending the 
sails. The bird having afterwards predicted pirates, the captain 
deems it wise to heed the warning, and succeeds in avoiding them. 
The vessel arrives at Chvalinsk, where the king is troubled by three 
ravens. The question they desire to put to him is even more difficult 
than in The Seven Sages, namely, to which of his parents the young 
bird belongs — to the cock or the hen ? The king decides in favour 
of the cock, but, like a wise judge, reserves his reasons. The boy is 
adopted by the king, and in due time espouses his daughter. His 
father and mother are found keeping an inn. 

In a Basque tale * a sea-captain's son is sent to school, but the 
sclioolmaster reports that he cannot drive anything into his head, and 
the boy himself admits that he has learnt nothing but the songs of 
the birds. His father takes him to sea. A bird comes and settles 
on the end of the ship, singing; and the father asks him what it is 
singing. The boy replies, '* He says I am now under your orders, 
but you shall also be under mine." The father encloses him in a 
barrel, and throws the barrel into the sea. A storm casts it ashore, 
where a king is walking. He has the barrel opened, and takes 
home the boy, who eventually marries the king's daughter. There 
is no mention of the three ravens, nor of the hero's accession to the 
crown, which is, however, implied. His father is one day caught in 
a storm, and flung upon the same shore. He takes service with the 
king, who is his own son, and thus fulfils the prophecy. 

A Portuguese variant f represents the hero as accustomed from 
an early age to go to the top of a mountain to see the moon, for 
which his father asks his reason. He replies that the moon had 
many times told him that his father would one day offer to fetch him 
water, and he would refuse it. The father, interpreting this that he 

* Webster, oj). clt. p. 136. 

t Coelho, Cantos Poimlares Portitguczcs,'^. 133. 

Vol. 4.— Part 4. z 


would be his son's servant, is angry with the pert youth. He gets a 
chest, puts his son therein, and pitches it into the sea. After three 
days the waif conies to land, and is taken to the king of that country 
as containing a treasure. Here, as in the last-mentioned tale, we 
probably have a reference to a well-known royal right. The king 
opens the chest, and adopts the boy, whom he finds alive within. At 
the age of twenty, the boy goes on a journey with a great company 
of people ; but not with any design, so far as appears, of finding his 
parents, as in the typical story. The parents have now fallen into 
poverty, and keep an inn, where the hero goes to stay : and there the 
prediction is accomplished. 

The learned Kohler,* in a note to the tales of Pope Innocent and 
Christie, cited under the following type, refers, among others, to two 
variants which appear to belong to this genus. In the first, of 
Masurian origin, the prophet is a lark, and foretells that the boy will 
become very rich — his parents, on the other hand, very poor — and 
that his mother will wash his feet, and his father drink the water of 
his bath. The hero becomes the son-in-law of the king of England, 
whose son and daughter he cures. Visiting his native town some 
time afterwards, the lark's prediction is accomplished. In the next 
story a raven intimates a similar degradation on the father's part, 
which is fulfilled when his son has become an emperor's son-in-law, 
and the father claiming shelter as a beggar has been received at his 
palace for the night. Here there is no attempt by the father on his 
son's life : he is simply driven away. 


It would perhaps be unwise to assert that this, the last type we 
shall consider, is more generally known in Western Europe, and a 
greater favourite with the people, than those which precede it, but 
there can be no doubt of its extensive popularity, especially in France 
and Italy. The typical story is one found by M. Fleury in Lower 
Normandy, and entitled The Language of Beasts.^ It is to the 

* Melusincy vol. i. col. 384. 

t Fleury, Litterature Ovale de la Basse NormancUe , p. 123. 


following effect : A man, enraged with his son because he has learnt 
nothing at school but the languages of dogs, frogs, and birds, not- 
withstanding that his schools have been twice changed on account of 
the frivolity of his accomplishments, hands the boy over, in spite of 
his mother's intercession, to a poor neighbour to be put to death. 
He pays the man for this service, charging him to bring back the 
child's heart in proof that he has performed the task. The murderer, 
however, after taking the boy to a wood for the execution of his 
purpose, relents, and spares him on condition that he goes away and 
does not return. A bitch is killed, and her heart taken back to the 
father instead of his son's.* The hero wanders away, and, falling in 
with two priests who are journeying to Rome, is permitted to accom- 
pany them. On the way thither the knowledge his father had judged 
so useless proves of the greatest service. Lodged at a house which 
robbers have undermined with the intention of entering that very 
night, he discovers the plot by overhearing the conversation of the 
owner's restless hounds; and, by persuading his host to watch, he 
delivers him from this danger. At another place he heals a girl who 
has been stricken dumb as a punishment for her carelessness in letting 
fall to the ground at her first communion a portion of the sacred 
wafer, which had been afterwards swallowed by a frog. The hero 
listens to the frogs talking in the ditch, and thus discovers the cause 
of the maiden's disease. On beating the ditch a frog of unusual size 
is found ; and, after three priests successively have tried in vain, the 
boy succeeds, speaking to the frog in her own tongue, in inducing her 
to disgorge the precious fragment. The three travellers reach Rome 
to find that the pope has died and his successor is about to be chosen. 
Our hero, with astonishment, overhears the birds in the trees pre- 
dicting his good fortune. A touch of humour follows. The two priests, 
his companions, not despairing of being chosen, make him promises 
of preferment : the one will install him as his shoeblack, the other as 
his messenger. The new pope is to be indicated by *' a portion of 
heaven " (interpreted by the collector of the story as a cloud) resting 

* It is too much to recognise in the sex of the animal killed an indication of 
any special relationship of the story with the King Lear and The Value of Salt 
types. Yet the coincidence is curious. 



upon him. It rests upon the outcast youth. Meantime, his mother 
has died of grief, and his father is tormented with remorse. The 
latter confesses, but his confessor refuses him absohition, referring 
him to the bishop. The bishop, in turn, refers him to the pope. The 
new pope hears his confession, and, finding him truly penitent, '' Your 
son is not dead," he cries, " he occupies a high rank which he even 
owes to you. If you had not been so cruel to him, he would not be 
to-day sovereign pontiff. Embrace me, my father ! " 

The Mantuan story of Bobo * differs but in unimportant details. 
The father's rage at the folly of his son's acquirements is told with 
full appreciation of its comic side. A dog's heart is the proof of the 
execution of this father's murderous commands. The robbers have 
not undermined the house where the hero finds shelter, but attack it 
in a more commonplace manner. The sick maiden, whom he heals, 
has for six years been punished with disease for the impiety of flinging 
the sacred host into a pond, where it has become a plaything for 
frogs. The youth falls in with two men reposing one hot day under 
a chestnut tree. They are going to Kome to the election of pope. 
Sparrows on the tree foretell that one of the three will be elected 
pope that day. Arrived in the church where the new pontiff is to be 
revealed, a dove alights on the hero's head, and he is conducted to 
the throne. Meantime, in a corner of the church a cry is heard. It 
is his father, dying with remorse. Bobo recognizes, and has just time 
to pardon him ere he expires. 

A variant from Upper Brittany f is less severe to the parents. 
Here it is the mother who first becomes indignant at the hero's folly ; 
but at last the father's patience also is worn out, and the youth is 

* Visentini, Fiahe Mantovane, Story No. 23, p. 121. Compare a story given 
by Comparetti from Monferrat (Comparetti, Novelline Po^olari Italiane, vol, i. 
Story No. 56, p. 242). Here the house saved from robbers has become a prince's 
castle, containing his treasure. The maiden healed is a king's daughter, and 
the cause of her illness is that she has thrown a cross into a reservoir of water. 
The king desires to marry her to the hero, but he rejects the overture. On being 
made pope he sends for his father, for the prince's treasurer and the king. 
He recounts the facts, and reproves his father, showing how useful his knowledge 
has been. His father, repentant, demands forgiveness. 

f Sebillot, Contes des Paysans et des PecJieurs, Story No. 25, p. 132. 


beaten, and turned out of doors. The will of Heaven as to the 
popedom is declared by a bell, which rings of itself when the chosen 
person passes under it. On becoming pope, the hero, as in the 
Italian tale already cited in a note, sends for his parents. They 
disregard his first letter, but, after a second, they hasten to Rome to 
beg his forgiveness, and remain with him happily to the end of their 

Two other Breton stories, much longer and more remarkable, 
collected by Luzel in Lower Brittany, where the old Keltic speech is 
still preserved, approach somewhat nearer The Ravens type. In one 
of these, the story of Christie,* a devout girl offends God by an 
impulse of pride, and is in consequence forsaken by her good angel, 
who, before finally leaving her, directs her to sit by the wayside and 
offer herself in marriage to the passers by. A drunkard weds her, 
and in due time she gives birth to a son. A mysterious old man 
becomes godfather, and enriches the parents. Doubtless we are to 
understand, as M. Luzel tells us in a note, that the benevolent stranger 
is no less a personage than the Deity himself, or rather, Jesus Christ, 
between whom and the Father it is rare that any distinction is made 
in Continental folk-tales. The hero's career would justify so great an 
interest in his baptism ; and the name (Christie) chosen for him in- 
dicates the exalted patronage under which he is received into the 
Church. The humour of the situation is not lost upon the narrator, 
but we cannot pause over the details. The father is reformed, and 
the son grows *' like a fern in the fields." He is caressed by all the 
women of the village (il etait si gentiU), and often thus detained from 
school. Beaten once for this by his father he foretells that the day 
will come when his father will wash his feet, and his mother will hold 
the towel. Their love for him turns to hatred, and they give orders 
to a servant for his death. The servant, however, satisfies himself 
by hanging him feet upwards to a tree, and taking home a dog's heart 
in sign of obedience. The hero is released from his uncomfortable 
position by a party of nobles, one of whom he afterwards delivers 
from a devil, who has taken service with him for the purpose of 

• MSlusine, vol. i. col. 300. 


carrying off his lady. The evil spirit is, of course, outwitted. Christie 
then determines to go to Home to see the city and the pope. By the 
way he meets an old monk, accompanied by a boy of his own age, who 
also are going to Rome. In this variant the house saved from robbers 
is an inn ; and the innkeeper himself calls attention to the noise made 
by the dogs. The robbers seek entrance as the Forty did into Ali 
Baba's dwelling. At midnight a man disguised as a rich tradesman 
arrives, with ten horses laden each with two hampers. By Christie's 
advice assistance is obtained from the neighbouring town, and the 
robbers are caught. The three travellers next meet a child's funeral. 
The hero, while others weep, bursts out laughing, and explains that 
by the child's death three souls have been saved ; for, had he lived, 
the salvation alike of himself and his parents would have been im- 
perilled by their pride in him. Towards evening the monk and his 
companions come to a country house, where, however, Christie refuses 
to lodge, foretelling that it will be burnt during the night ; and they 
go to rest in the wood which surrounds the house. The great hall 
rings out into the night with riot and blasphemy, until the thunder falls 
upon it and all is reduced to ashes. The next day the hero weeps at a 
monk's funeral, for the loss of his soul, while every one else is joyous, 
convinced that the departed has gone straight to Paradise. At Rome 
he refuses to cap to a rich man as others do. He asks the monk what 
he will give him if he (the monk) becomes pope. The monk replies 
that the youth shall be his swineherd if he likes, otherwise he shall 
go away. The younger fellow-traveller promises to make him his 
vicar. The next day there is to be a procession, candles in hand ; and 
he whose candle lights of itself will be the pontiff. Christie, who has 
no money to buy a candle, carries a peeled hazel-wand, like the 
pilgrims who go to the "pardons" of Lower Brittany. His wand 
takes fire ; but he is declared a sorcerer, and the fire exthiguished. 
The next day, and the next, the procession is repeated with the same 
result; and Christie is at length seated in St. Peter's chair. He 
bestows the office of vicar on his younger fellow-traveller, and that of 
swineherd on the monk. Meanwhile, his parents confess their sin, 
and can find none to absolve them. They seek the pope. After 
hearing their confession separately, he exhorts them to have confidence 


in God, — perhaps their son is not dead ; and he requests them to 
come to see him at the palace before leaving. They obey, trembling 
in expectation that he will impose on them some terrible penance. 
But, instead of fulfilling his own prediction, he reverses it by himself 
washing the feet of his father and mother, after which, with eyes filled 
with tears, he cries : — " Do you not know me ? I am your son 
Christie, whom you condemned to death ! " 

The hero of the other Breton tale is the son of a king of France, 
born in answer to prayers.* His nurse forgets one day to make the 
sign of the cross over his cradle, and he is taken away by the devil, 
and a changeling left in his place. The babe is deposited in a 
magpie's nest at the top of an elm in a German archbishop's garden. 
He is found by the gardener, and taken to his master, who names him 
Innocent, from the expression made use of by the gardener in present- 
ing the babe, and brings him up. Innocent learns his prayers without 
being taught, reproves the archbishop for his pride and vanity, and dis- 
plays supernatural knowledge. At the age of twenty-one this enfant 
terrible goes to seek his father and mother. Arrived at Paris he makes 
at once for the palace, delivers his parents from the horrid changeling, 
and declares himself their true son. They receive him with joy ; but 
after awhile he displeases them by always shunning gaiety, and by 
frequenting instead the society of a charcoal-burner. His father re- 
monstrates, and forbids him to see his friend again, threatening him 
in case of disobedience to be torn to pieces by four horses. In return 
the hero poohpoohs his father's anger, and tells him that one day he 
will be happy to pour the water for his son to wash his hands, and his 
mother to present him with a napkin to dry them. The king, trans- 
ported with rage, gives orders for the execution of his threat ; but 
this does not please the queen, who goes to the charcoal-burner and 
promises him a large sum to pitch the prince into his furnace the next 
day when he comes as usual to visit him. The charcoal-burner reveals 
the plot, and Innocent quits the country. He sets out for Rome, to 
be present at the pope's election. On the road he encounters two 
Capuchin monks. In this story, contrary to the last, it is the elder 

* Melusine, vol. i. col. 374. Luzel, op. cit. vol. i. p. 282 (part iii. Story 
No. 11). 


monk who is gentle to him ; the younger is suspicious and hostile. 
And it must be confessed that appearances favour the younger monk's 
attitude. A nobleman, at whose house the travellers are received^ 
asks them in the morning before leaving to bless his babe. The monks 
comply graciously ; Innocent, on the other hand, secretly stabs it to 
the heart. At a distance from the house he tells his companions what 
he has done, and justifies it on the ground that he has saved the 
parents' souls, to whom their child had become their god. Towards 
evening they arrive at another country seat, where they are supped ; 
but Innocent refuses to go to bed, and persuades their host to watch 
and get constables into the house. A similar attempt upon the house 
to that narrated in the story of Christie is made by robbers, and 
defeated by our hero's prudence. At the next town the travellers find 
no house to receive them ; and as they are forbidden the inns they are 
in a difficulty. Innocent solves it by stealing from a goldsmith's shop, 
and they are all three clapped into prison. At midnight an enemy 
assails the town, and sets it on fire. The prisoners are, as the youth 
has predicted, set at liberty ; and he forthwith presents himself before 
the besieging prince and forbids him to destroy the town as he 
intended. He even with a word withholds the cannons from firing 
when shot ; and the assailants are helpless. All take him for a 
sorcerer; and the younger monk says in so many words that he and 
his companion will be fortunate if he do not bring them to the gallows 
or the stake before reaching Rome. The next adventure is with the 
frogs. In this case the girl is one of evil life, who has presented her- 
self before the altar in a state of mortal sin, and has put the host into 
her handkerchief. That very morning she has accidentally dropped it 
into the pond, where it has been swallowed by a frog ; and Innocent 
hears the other frogs, who have surrounded the first, chanting their 
Maker's praises. The girl has been stricken blind, deaf and dumb. 
As they draw near the holy city, birds in a hedge foretell that one of 
the three shall be pope. The usual conversation occurs : the elder 
monk promises, if he attain the dignity, to make our hero his foremost 
cardinal ; the other to make him beadle in his cathedral. In the pro- 
cession Innocent bears a wand from the hedge where the birds sang. 
All happens as in the story of Christie ; and he confers on his com- 


panions tlic posts they had promised him. In this variant the hero's 
prediction to his father and mother is fulfilled to the letter, but is not 
preceded by actual confession, though the parents had come to Rome 
for that purpose. 

I have lingered over these two Breton tales, so well told and so full 
of detail that they are two of the best examples of this type. I shall 
now notice two other variants of a much less perfect description. Tlie 
former of these is given by Grimm : * it is a Swiss story from the 
Upper Valais, entitled The Three Languages. An aged count's only 
son, we are told, is stupid, and can learn nothing. His father, 
annoyed, puts him under a celebrated master for a year ; and at the 
end the son, in answer to his enquiries, tells him that he has learnt 
what dogs say when they bark. The angry count puts him under 
another master, with the result that he learns only what birds say. 
The removal is repeated, only to end in the boy's acquiring the 
language of frogs. The usual order for death follows ; and the count 
is deceived with a deer's eyes and tongue. The youth, wandering, 
comes to a fortress, where he begs a night's lodging. It is granted 
on condition of his staying in an old tower full of wild dogs, which 
bark and howl unceasingly, and devour men. He goes with food for 
them, and is well received. The next morning he reports that they 
have told him they are bewitched to watch over a treasure hidden in 
the tower, and cannot have rest ere it be discovered ; and further that 
he has learned from them how this is to be done. He discovers it 
accordingly, and the dogs disappear. The lord of the castle, in 
gratitude, adopts him as his son. After a time he determines to go 
to Rome. By the way he hears what the frogs in a certain marsh are 
saying, and becomes thoughtful and sad. Arrived at Rome he finds 
that the pope has just died, and that his successor is to be pointed out 
by some divine and miraculous token. The hero enters the church, 
and suddenly two snow-white doves fly on his shoulders and settle 
there. This is recognised as the required sign, and he is chosen 
pope — thus fulfilling the frogs' prophecy. He has to sing a mass, 

* Kinder und HausmdrcJien, Story No. 33, p. 134. M. Hunt's English version, 
vol. i. p. 136. 


but does not know a word of it. He is relieved of his perplexity by 
the doves, who, sitting on his shoulders, say it all in his ear. 

The earlier part of this variant approximates more nearly to the 
type than those of Christie and Pope Innocent; but the touching 
termination has been forgotten. It reappears, however, in the Basque 
version * I am about to cite, although the prophecy with which the 
tale opens is not even there literally fulfilled. Perhaps the story is 
more dramatic as it stands. A boy, one of the children of a lady and 
gentleman, says that he hears a voice very often telling him that a 
father and a mother would be servants to their son, but without 
saying who. The mother, becoming angry, sends the boy with her 
two men-servants to be killed, directing them to bring his heart back 
to the house. The servants fall out, like the ruffians in the Babes in 
the Wood. The servant who wished to spare him gets the better of 
the other ; and instead of the boy they kill a big dog, and take his 
heart to their mistress. The youth, wandering about, determines to 
go to Eome. He meets two men and goes with them. The voice 
again speaks to him when at a house in a thick forest ; and by listening 
to it and watching he saves himself and his companions in the night 
from an attempt to rob and murder them. At another place he heals 
a girl who has been shrieking with pain for seven years ; but the 
narrator had forgotten how this was done. There is, however, little 
doubt as to the method. Her father takes a ring off her finger, and 
cutting it in two gives one-half to the youth. This is probably a sign 
of betrothal. As the travellers approach Eome the bells begin to ring 
of themselves ; and the people taking it as a sign make him pope. 
His mother, slowly dying of remorse, tells her husband of the crime ; 
and they make a journey to Rome, accompanied by the two servants, 
to make confession, as she believes she will get pardon there. She 
confesses aloud in the middle of the church. Her son is there. 
When he hears that he goes opening his arms to the arms of his 
mother, saying to her : ''I forgive you, I am your son !" The father 
and mother die of joy on the spot. The pope gives the half-ring to 
the servant who wanted to spare him, and marries him to the girl 
whom he has healed. The other servant he makes a charcoal-burner. 
♦ Webster, o;p. cit. p. 137. 


A Siberian story, cited by Kohler in the note already referred to,* 
condemns the hero's father to even greater degradation than the 
closely related variants of the last previous type. The birds which 
utter the prophecy are not specified. The irritated sire having, as he 
believes, successfully accomplished his son's death, flings his body 
into the sea; but the youth, still living, is thrown by the waves upon 
the beach. The emperor of that land has just died, and his successor 
is to be he on whom two tapers placed on golden sticks shall fall. 
They fall on the nape of the hero's neck, and continue to burn. 
Succeeding thus to the throne, he gives a great feast, which his father 
attends, and suffers what had been foretold concerning him. 

The last variant I shall mention was obtained by Dr. Pitre at 
Partanna, in Sicily.f It is to the following effect: A father sends 
his son to study at Catania, and he finishes his course at the age of 
twenty, and tak(;s his doctor's degree. On his return his father takes 
the opportunity of asking him at table what is the most useful thing 
in this world ? The youth answers, " A close stool"; whereupon his 
father, unable to control himself, drives him out of the house, and 
curses him. Our hero enters the Church, and becomes, successively, 
incumbent, bishop, cardinal, pope. The father, smitten with remorse, 
goes to Rome to throw himself at the new pope's feet (not knowing 
who he is), and pray forgiveness for his conduct to his son. The 
pope recognizes him, and causes him to be lodged in the palace. 
There, before making himself known, he gives him cause, amid the 
luxury, the silk and gold of his surroundings, bitterly to feel, and to 
admit in words, the justice of his son's opinion. At length the son 
reveals his identity, and we are quaintly told that " everything ended 
with a solemn embrace." 

The rise of the popedom within comparatively recent times is a 
guarantee that the type now before us is one of the latest develop- 
ments of The Outcast Child myth. The story of The Ravens can be 
traced back into the Middle Ages, but T have not found The Language 
of Beasts save in modern collections of folk-tales. It is an obvious 

* Melunne, vol. i. col. 384. It is cited by Kohler from the work already 
referred to by Radloff. part i. p. 208. 
f Pitre, oj/, cit. vol. i. p. 90. 


conjecture that this type has been developed from the former under 
the influence of the final situation. The transition is not difficult. 
In the one case a parent is brought face to face with the son, for 
whose slaughter he has long since been devoured by remorse, and 
whom he now finds to have escaped death and reached the predicted 
height of power. In the other case he has gone to fling himself at 
the feet of one whose God-given authority alone can absolve him 
from the same crime, and is confounded to learn that he to whom he 
prays for pardon is his ill-used child, yet living to prove to him the 
truth of his prophecy. The dramatic force of this position has been 
recognized in another Italian tale, in which the bastard child of a 
sister and brother, cast away at his birth, becomes pope, and receives 
the confession of his father and mother, to whom no meaner ecclesi- 
astic has dared to give remission of so great a sin.* This tale is well 
known in Italy and Sicily, where, perhaps, it would be more likely to 
arise than in other countries whose natives more rarely attain the 
pontifical dignity. A diligent search may, however, find it elsewhere. 
Its details do not resemble those we have been considering, except 
that the choice of pope is indicated by a dove. 


In considering the story of The Outcast Child I have not allowed 
myself to deviate into any of the closely related groups. There are, 
however, several the detailed examination of which might possibly 
throw light upon the origin and transmission of the one now before 
us. These may be divided into two main classes, — the one dealing 
with the sufferings of a lady unjustly suspected by her husband, and 
the other narrating the relations of a band of brothers. I have already 
mentioned one of the latter; and additional instances, such as that 
of Codadad and his Brothers, will readily occur to the reader. One 
portion at least of the former class will, we may be sure, be adequately 
treated by Mr. Clouston in the studies on the origin of Chaucer's 

* Gouzenh&ch, Slcilianische Mdrchen, Story No. 85, vol. ii. p. 159. Pitre, oj?. 
cit. Story No. 117, vol. iii. p. 33. (Pitre also refers to a story from Leghorn given 
in Kunst's Italicnisehc Volhsmdrchen.) Finamore, Novelle Pojjolari Ahrvzzesi^ 
Story No. 31, in Archil-} o, vol. v. p. 95. 


Tales, on which he is now engaged. Until these groups have been 
analysed it is probably vain to expect that any satisfactory suggestions 
will be offered as to the real source and primitive shape of The Outcast 
Child. Professor De Gubernatis has, indeed, made some guesses on 
the subject,* but, it seems to me, without much success. The stories 
he cites certainly demand further inquiry. Two of them are, like the 
first three types we have just considered. Youngest-best stories. But 
none includes the essential incident of expulsion by the father of the 
only child who ultimately proves faithful to him. Still it is of course 
possible that the intermediate steps may be discovered, and one or 
more of these narratives may be proved to be rightly assigned as an 
early form of King Lear. 

Meantime, this paper has already grown to too great a length, and 
I will now detain the reader only to point out that the framework of 
the tale has nothing in it of the marvellous, and, consequently, it 
lends itself with more than usual ease to the transformation from- 
mdrchen to saga. This transformation is a great assistance to the 
preservation of folk-tales as literature, and frequently, also, while still 
in the mouths of the people. The oldest variant is found already 
converted into a saga in the book of Genesis ; and it is not too much 
to say that it is this change which has not only preserved it for us, 
but has rendered it the most widely known of all. King Lear, too, 
owes its enduring life to the same cause. The tendency of the tale 
towards saga shape may be studied still farther in The Language of 
Beasts type, where more than one of the variants will be found in process 
of conversion. The name of Pope Innocent is one step. It would not 
have required much help from favouring circumstances, nor much 
effort of pious fraud or sincere enthusiasm, to proceed a little further, 
and, identifying the hero with one of the popes of that name, to add 
a few more particulars of persons and places, so as to develop a com- 
plete saga. Similar indications will be noted in other examples. 

E. Sidney Hartland. 

* Zoological Mythology, vol. i. p. 84, vol. ii. p. 2.30. The learned Professor 
omits to give the exact reference to iElian, from whom he cites the stories of the 
hoopoe and the lark. They will be found De Nat. Anim. lib. xvi. c. 5. 



I HE following version of the play still acted every Christ- 
mas by the Guiscrs (pronounced Gheez.u'rz) at Eccles- 
hall, Staffordshire, was written down in 1879 by John 
Bates, sawyer, of that town. An account of the per- 
formance will be found in Shropshire Folk-Lore^ p. 483. 

Characters : Open-the-door, Sing Ghiles {sic, Sir Guy of War- 
wick ?), King George, Noble Soldier, Little Doctor, Black Prince of 
Paradise, Old Bellzebub, and Little Jack Dcvil-dout. 

Open-the-door, I open the door as I come in. 
Hoping your favour for to win ; 
Whether I rise, or stand, cr fall, 
I do my duty to please you all. 
A room, a room, brave British, room ! and give me room to 

rise, \_read tide]. 
I come to show you British sport this merry Christmas time. 

\read tide]. 
Sing Ghiles he stands outside the door, he swears he will 

come in. 
With his sword and buckler by his side he swears he'll brace 

my skin. 
He thinks I am a dirty dog, he thinks I am not stout. 
He swears he will 'a [= have] vengeance before he gives it out.* 
If you won't believe me what I say, 
Step in. Sing Ghiles, and clear thy way ! 

* A comparison with the version in Shrojjsldre Folk-Lore will show that these 
lines are properly part of Sir Guy's denunciation of St. George. 


Sing Ghiles. Here am I, Sing Ghiles ! Sing Gliiles it is my name. 
From English ground I sprang and came 
To fight King George by name. 
Open-the-door. King George is here, ready at hand, 
I'll fetch him in at thy command. 
If thou can't believe me what I say, 
Step in. King George, and clear thy way. 
King George. The dewdrops from the valley.* I am in the search 
of an enemy, but now I have found him, my sword shall 
end his life. 
Sing Ghiles (^sings or says). 1 am afraid I am a stranger. 

Exposed to be in danger. 
The balls from yonder mountains have laid me quite low ! 
King George. Prepare, thou wretch, for death ; my sword shall end 
thy life ! 
{TheT/ move round and round, clashing their swords against 
each other.) 
Sing Ghiles. Enter in that soldier, that noble soldier bold. 
Before King George strikes my heart cold ! 
(^Sing Ghiles leans on his sword as if wounded. Soldier enters, 
and strikes up King George's sword, about to descend on 
Sing Ghiles.) 
Soldier. Bear off. King George, for a few moments. Look down 
with pity on him, use him as a stranger. Thou shalt not 
wrong him ! 
King George. Who art thou ? a soldier ? 

Soldier. A soldier ? yes ! a noble soldier bold. Bold Slasher is my 
With my sword and buckler by my side I hope to win this 

And if this game should do me good, 
I'll first drawn (sic) sword and then thy blood ! 

* This must be the first line, or title-heading, of a forgotten song. 
•j- Otherwise, " from Turkey land I came." 


King George. thou liasher, thou slasher, what makes thee talk so 
When there's a man all in this room thou little thinks thou'st 

Who will hash thee and slash thee as I told you once before. 
I always gained the championship wherever I did go ! 
Soldier. What's the use of talking about hashing me and slashing 
When my arms are made of iron and my body's made of steel 
And legs of beaten brass, no man can make me feel ! 
King George. Here stands King George, one of the noble dukes of 
the valley ! 
Being seven long years in a close cave, 
Have been kept out of into [szc] a rock of stone. 
Where I made my sad and grievous moan. 
It's many a joint where I so do, 
Where I'd ram this fiery dagger through.* 
It's I who slew Slabberer from the stake. 
What more can mortal man undertake ? | 
England's right, 
And Ireland is bright, 
And here I draw my weapon ! 
Show me the man that dares me stand, 
I'll cut him down at my command ! 
Soldier and King George (singing). For to-morrow we will fight 

With our swords in our hands shining bright, bright, bright. 
{Clashing of swords as before, Soldier is wounded.) 
Soldier, Help, help, help ! I am in the search [? clutch] of an 

• " Many a giant I did subdue, 

And ran a fiery dragon through,'' 
runs the Mummers* Play given in the Rev. W. D. Parish's Dictionary of the 
Smsex Dialect. This whole speech should be compared with this version, and 
with the early life of St. George in the ballad of the Seven Cham^nons. 
f "I freed fair Sabra from the stake, 

What more could mortal man undertake ? " 
North of Ireland version in Notes and Queries ^ 4th S. x. 487. 


enemy. He once was a friend, but now lie lias proved my 
ruin. Help I require. {Dies ) 
Open-the-door, cruel, cruel Christian ! * what hast thou done ? 

Thou'st robbed me of my eldest son ! 
King George. He challenged me to fight 

And how could I deny't ? 
{Sings.) With my sword in my hand shining bright, bright, bright ! 
Open-the-door. Is there ever a doctor to be found? I'll give five 

pound ! 
King George. I'll give ten ! 
Open-the-door. Enter in Little Doctor ! 

Little Doctor {runs in). Rut, tut, tut ! here comes a little doctor so 
And with my pills I'll cleanse his blood ! 
Open-the-door. How far hast thou travelled, noble doctor ? 
Doctor. From the top of the stairs to the bottom. 
Open-the-door. Any further ? 

Doctor. Yes, to the top of It'ly, Wittley, Isic"] France, and Spain, 
And all the nations you can name, 
And now I am come back to old England again 
To cure this man that here lies slain. 
Open-the-door. What's thy finest cure, noble doctor ? 
Doctor. A pain within and a pain without, 

A pain in the head and a pain in the gout; 
If there is ninety -nine diseases in one marrowbone, I am 
bound to fetch them all out. 
Open-the-door. Try thy skill, noble doctor. 

Doctor {stooping over Soldier). Here, Jack, take a drop of my nip-nap. 
Ram it up thy tip-tap ! 
Rise up, Jack, and fight again ! 

You see that deadly man does not rise at that ; no, he's got a 
mortal wound which a coach- and-six may travel through. 
But I've got another little bottle in my pocket called 
oakum-smokum-American-painwater, which can raise any 
dead man to life again. 

* This is the only vestige of " King " George's character as a saintly 

Vol. 4.— Part 4. 2 a 


Open-the-door. Try thy skill, noble doctor. 

Doctor (stoops over Soldier). Here, Jack, take a sup out of my bottle. 
Bam it down thy throttle. 
Rise up. Jack, and fight again ! 
Soldier (rises). The horribles ! the terribles ! the like was never 
A man knocked out of seven senses into seventeen. 
Out of seventeen into seven score. 
The like was never seen nor never done before. 
rU buy a bull, I'll buy a bear, 
I'll buy myself, I do declare ! 

(jTo King George) My sword is indebted to thy blood, and I'll 
still have my revenge ! 
King George. Have it then ! (^Clashing of swords.) 
Opeii-the-door (strikes up the swords). 

Put up them swords and be at rest, 
For peace and quietness is the best ! 
Enter in Black Prince ! 
Black Prince. Here come I, Black Prince, Black Prince of Paradise, 
a black Morocco king. 
Through those woods and groves which I have made this earth 

to ring. 
It's I who slew those seven Turks, although King George I 

do not fear. 
From his body to his heart I will ram this dreadful spear. 
I'll jam his giblets full of holes and in those holes put pebble 

I'll make his buttons fly ! 
King George. Thou jam my giblets full of holes and in those holes 
put pebble stones ! 
It does not lie in thy power. 
Although thou be a champion squire. 
Black Prince. Let me be a champion squire or what I will, 

I'll do my duty for to kill. (Clashing of swords). 
Open-ihe-door (strikes up the swords). 

Put up them swords and be at rest, 


For peace and quietness is the best. 
Enter in old Bellzebub ! 
Belhebuh (the Fool, carrying a club and a ladle, a bell tied at his 
back). Here comes one as never come yet, 
With a large head and a little wit. 
Although my wit it is so small, 
I've got enough to please you all. 
Ah, ah, ah, how funny ! 
All these fine new things and no money ! 
My name is called Old Bellzebub, 
And over my left shoulder I carry a club, 
And over my right shoulder a small dripping-pan, 
And I call myself a jolly old man. 

Sings. My coat is all pitches and patches, 

And when shall I get new ? 
As I find my old worthy my slaver, 
Brave boys, if I'm ragged I'm true. 
Chorus. True, true ! 

Brave boys, if I'm ragged I'm true. 

I am a jovial tinker, 

I've travelled both far and near, 
And I never did meet with a singer 

Without he could drink some beer. 

We can either eat or drink, 

Whilst the bells of England tingle ; 
But if you will give me your chink, 

I'll make the ladle jingle. 

So I come meddle, come mend your kettle, 

I want to make you crazy ; 
Come double your money and thrible your money, 

I want to make you easy.* 

Open-the-door. Enter in Little Jack Dout ! 
Jack Dout (tvifh a broom, sweeping). 

Here comes Little Jack Dout, 

With my brush I'll sweep you all out ; 

* See FolTi-Lore Journal, vol. iv. p. 259. The air is No. 2 in Sliropshire 
Folh-Lore, p. 651. 

2 a2 


Money I want and money I crave, 

Or else I'll sweep you all into your grave. 

Now ladies and gentlemen, you tliat are able, 

Put your hands in your pockets and remember the ladle. 

For when I am dead and in my grave 

No more of the ladle I shall crave. 

Song by the Company, 

9 ■ 





On a bleak and a cold frost - y morn - ing, When 


in - cle - ment they were scorn - ing, Thro' the 

spark-ling frost and snow, And a - skat-ing we will go ! Thro' the 



spark-ling frost and snow, And a - skat - ing we will go. Will you 

follow ? Will you follow ? To the sound of the merry, merry horn 

On a bleak and a cold frosty morning, 
When winter inclement they were scorning, 
^.^ \ Through the sparkling frost and snow, 
I And a skating we will go. 

Will you follow ? will you follow ? 

To the sound of the merry, merry horn ! 

See how the skates they are glancing ! 
From the right to the left they are dancing, 
^. ( And no danger shall we feel 

With our weapons made of steel . 

Will you follow ? will you follow ? 

To the sound of the merry merry horn 1 

Hs I 


See how Victoria reigns o'er us ! 

She has health, she has wealth, to adore us (!) 

In the merry merry month of May, 

All so lively, hlithe, and gay ! 

Will you follow ? will you follow ? 

To the sound of the merry merry horn I 

SouLiNG Songs. 

It is customary in Staffordshire, Cheshire, and North Shropshire to 
go about on the 1st November (All Saints Day — the Eve of All 
Souls), and sometimes also on the 2nd, begging for cakes, apples, or 
ale. This practice, called '' souling," is now almost confined to the 
children, who sing or drawl the following ditties. (See Shropshire 
Folk-Lore, pp. 381-388.) 

Sing-song on two notes. Soul, soul, for an apple ! 

Pray, good missis, a couple ! 

One for Peter, two for Paul, 

And three for Him as made us all ! 

Allaby, allaby, eeby ee I 

Christmas comes but once a year. 

When it's gone it's never the near I 

For goodness sake, 

A soul cake I 

Up with your kettle and down with your pan, 

Give me an apple and I'll be gone ! 

Air No. 20, Shrojj- The cock sat up in the yew-tree, 
sJdre Folk-Lore, The hen came chackling by, 
p. 656. I wish you all good morning, 

And a good fat pig in the sty. 

A good fat pig in the sty I 

The lanes are very dirty, 

My shoes are very thin, 
I pray good missis and master 

To drop a penny in ! 

To drop a penny in I 

Air No. 21, Shro}^- Here comes one, two, three, jolly boys, 
shire Folk-Lore, All in a mind, 
p. 657. We are come a souling 

For what we can find. 
Both ale, beer, and brandy. 
And all sorts of wine. 

( Would ye be so kind, would ye he so kind ?) 


We'll have a jug of 

Your [best old Marcli] beer, 
And we'll come no more souling 

Till this time next year. 
With walking and talking 

We get ver}' dry, 
I hope you good neighbours 

Will never deny. 
Put your hand in your pocket, 

And pull out your keys. 
Go down in your cellar 

And draw what you please. 
Eccleshall, 1884. 

Akother Variant. 

Sing song. Soul, soul ! for an apple or two ! 

If you've got no apples, pears' 11 do. 
Up with your kettles and down with your pans, 
Pray, good missis, a soul-cake ! 
Peter stands at yonder gate, 
Waiting for a soul-cake.* 
One for Peter, two for Paul, 
Three for them that made us. 
Souling-day comes once a-year, 
That's the reason we come here. 


Sung by a nailmaker out of work, from Gornall in South Stafford- 
shire, 26 February, 1886. 

" The Jews they crucified Him, O ! the Jews they crucified Him, O I 
the Jews they crucified Him, O ! 

" And nailed Him to a tree. 
" Joseph begged His body, Joseph begged His body, Joseph begged His 

" And laid it in a tomb. 

* The picture of St. Peter waiting at Heaven's gate for the dole which is to 
purchase the admission thither of the poor souls in purgatory is very striking ; 
there is more meaning perceptible here than in the old churning charm in 
which similar words occur. 


" Mary stood a-weeping, Mary stood a-weeping, Mary stood a-weeping 

" To see the Blessed Lord. 
" Down come an angel, O ! down come an angel, O ! down come an 
angel, O ! 

" And rolled away the stone. 
" It*s up rose the Saviour, up rose the Saviom*, up rose the Saviour 

" To conquer Death and Hell. 
" Tell John and Peter, tell John and Peter, tell John and Peter, 

" ' I'm risen from the dead ! ' " 

A Good Wish at a Wedding. 

Used by an old woman at Offley Hay, Eccleshall, July, 1885. 

" I wish you 

A roof to cover you, and a bed to lie, 

Meat when you're hungry, and drink when you're dry, 

And a place in Heaven when you come to die." 


On an entailed estate in the parish of Eccleshall. 

" While ivy is smooth and holly is rough, 
There'll always be a Blest of * The Hough.' " 

Old Rhyme, 

Repeated by a nursemaid from Haughton, Staffordshire, 1862. 

" John Wesley's dead, that good owd mon, 

We ne'er shan see 'im moor, 
*E used fur to weer a snooff-brown coat 

All boottoned oop afoor I " 

Charlotte S. Burne. 
Pyebirch, Eccleshall, Staffordshire. 



|T. COLUMBKILLE was travelling through Monreagh, 
near RathniuUen, to Donegal, when the place was thickly 
inhabited, and no one would give him bite or sup. He 
cursed them and said, " A time will come when one man 
will possess all, and then there will be lots to eat for the wayfarer." 
The curse has been fulfilled, — one person now possesses all. 

The saint on his travels came to Fadda lough in Fanad, the tract 
between Mulroy and Swilly Waters, and found a man fishing, who he 
asked for a fish. The man replied that he had not caught any. This 
the saint did not believe, and said, '' No one will henceforward catch 
more fish that you have now caught." The man had not caught a 
fish, and no one has since caught one there. [Query : Is not this very 
similar to the curse of the *' barren Jig -tree ? "] 

The saint had a hermitage in the lake, now called Lough Columb- 
kelle, a little to the eastward of Ballaghnagalloglach {anglice, ford of 
the swordsmen), now Millford. He lived on the fish he caught there ; 
but a pagan used to come and poach, notwithstanding that he was 
waraed off time after time by the saint. At last, 'one day the saint said, 
*' You may catch three fish, but a devil a bit will you catch more if 
you fish from morning to night." Since then any one going to fish 
there will easily catch three fish, but never more. 

Gartan Clay. {Folk-Lore Journal, vol. iii. p. 275.) — Although 
this clay is commonly reported to have been blessed by St. Columbkille 
the O'Freels, whose territory by the ancient map lay about Gweedore 
and Gweebarra, claim that an ancestor, Termear O'Freel {O^Freel of 
the Sanctuary), built the church, made the well, and blessed the clay. 
When creating the well he struck the solid rock, and said, '' Hence- 


forth the water here will never fail, as the spring is supplied from the 
lake on the top of Muekish." 

Muckish is one of the highest hills in the co. Donegal, about eight 
miles to the northward ; but on it at the present time there is no lake, 
although there are lakes in its vicinity to the eastward and westward. 
That the O'Freels had something to do with the place is evident, as 
only a Freel can find the clay (see ante, vol. iii. p. 275). As there 
were five or more St. Columbkille in Ireland, it is possible the Saint 
of Gartan may have belonged to the O'Freels, although popularly 
his history is mixed up with that of St. Columbkille, of Cormorroe, 
CO. Clare, who was one of the O'Quins or O'Brians. 

Donegal Customs, &c. 

Good Friday and Easter. — The people near Ramelton, parish of 
Tullyaughnish, on every Good Friday go to Arddruman Strand, 
Lough Swilly, to pick mussels. My informant states — " All the 
girls of the country start at daybreak with sacks, and do not come 
back till dark night ; they go great distances out into the water, where 
the mussels grow on the rocks as thick as primroses." 

The mussels brought home are fried and eaten on Easter Sunday. 
On Easter Saturday the beggars going about the country ask for their 
" Easter Eggs." In places in Cornwall sea shellfish are also 
gathered on Good Friday. (See Paper by Miss M. A. Courtney, 
Folk-Lore Journal ^ vol. iv. p. 222.) In connection with the Cornish 
customs it may be mentioned that in the cos. Wexford and Wicklow 
the people light fires on St. Peter's Eve (the patron of the fishermen), 
but I have not remarked the custom elsewhere in Ireland, although 
from what I have heard I suspect that at one time it was also the 
custom in the co. Donegal. 

Erysii^elas. This in Donegal is known as The Hose ; it is very 
common but can be cured by a Stroker. The following is said to 
have happened: A nurse of the Rectors had the rose and the doctor 
was called in ; after he was gone the woman's friends brought in a 
" stroker," who rubbed the nurse with bog-moss (Sphagmum), and 
then threw a bucket of bog-water over her in the bed. This treat- 


merit cured the woman, and is said to be that generally in vogue, but 
is not efficient except the right person does it. 

Blowing Horns. Formerly cows' horns were blown at weddings 
but now they blow bottles. A bottle is prepared as follows : Put 
about half-an-inch of water in it and clap the bottom of the bottle in 
the embers of the fire (greeshue), this will cause the bottom to break 
off cleanly and evenly — a bottle thus treated is more easily blown than 
a cow's horn. 

If a person dreams of a dog, it is a man, or of a cat, a woman ; 
that probably will do him either a harm or some good. A man 
dreamed that a dog of mine attacked him, and the next day coming 
back from breakfast he was struck across the head with a stick by a 
beggar man ; he was fully persuaded that the dream foretold the 

Fairgorta, Fairgarta, or Hungry grass (Fer, grass, and gorta, 
hungry). This grass grows in wild desolate places, and any one who 
chances to put their foot on it is immediately seized with weakness 
and sleepiness. The following happened, not in this county, but 
Connemara, co. Galway— Two of us were traversing the hills between 
Oughterard and the sea ; coming home my companion said he felt 
faint ; then he wanted to lie down and go to sleep. The latter I 
would not allow, and between dragging and carrying him I got him 
to a cabin at about 9 p.m. He could neither eat nor drink ; so I 
treated him like a tired pointer and forced into his mouth oaten-meal 
and salt ; which brought him to. This man was supposed to have 
trodden on the Fairgorta ; and people found dead in the hills are said 
to have met with a similar mishap. 

Sayings. *' He is not right." This is said of any one who can do 
things out of the common ; or a knowing person who can guess at 
things that an ordinary mortal would never think of. 

'' He is not all there." Said of an idiot or a fool. Said in con- 
tempt of any one who does foolish things. 

^' That's the element." Intended to indicate that what is going 
on is above the common ; it specially is used when describing good 


Juggy's Well, Monkstown, co. Dublin. 

This is scarcely old enough to be folk-lore, the name of the well 
being only a little more than half-a-century old, but at the same time 
a record may prevent speculation hereafter. 

The following is the origin as given by an old coachman of my 
father : '' When I was a boy, before there was a railway in the 
country, everything for Kingstone, or as it was then Dunleary, was 
brought in carts along the Rock Road ; at the bottom of Monks- 
town Hill at the well sat an old woman who used to get halfpence 
from the quality for taking the drags off the wheels of the carriages. 
When we were passing with the carts we always stopped to take a 
drink ; so the old woman got a jug which she used always to fill when 
she saw any of us coming ; we got to call her Juggy, and generally 
had a halfpenny or a bit of 'bacca for her when we passed. Poor 
Juggy went when the railway was made, at least, I never saw her 
since, but the name has stuck to the well." 

It is probable the name will always remain as it is recorded on the 
Ordnance map, and unless there is a record of its origin it will be a 
'* puzzleite"; in fact it is at the present time, as 1 have heard some 
curious pre-christian derivations suggested. 


The Place of the Science of Folk-Lore. — The following definition 
of the place of the Science of Folk-lore in the system of the Historical 
Sciences was among the corrections of my paper on Folk-lore as the 
Complement of Culture-lore; but it was, unfortunately, the uncorrected 
proof, instead of the corrected revise, that was published in the July 
number of the Journal. 

I would distinguish the Historical Sciences as Sciences of Man's 
Physical Evolution, or the General Science of Anthropology; Sciences 
of Man's Mental Development, or the General Science of Noology ; 


and Sciences of Man's Social Progress, or the General Science of 
Sociology, if that barbarous term should still be preferred to such a 
more classical term as Kcenoniology {Kotviovia aydfjioTrlvi), Human 

The Historical Sciences of Physical Evolution are the Sciences of 
the history of Aptitude — the history of the evolution of (1) Races; 
of (2) Languages ; and of (3) Inventions. 

The Historical Sciences of Mental Development are the Sciences of 
the history of Culture — the history of the development of (1) Philo- 
sophy ; of (2) Ideals; and of (3) Jurisprudence. 

And the Historical Sciences of Social Progress are the Sciences of 
the history of Society — the history of the progress of (1) Economical 
Organisation ; of (2) Religions (Folk-beliefs as distinguished from 
Culture-ideals); and of (3) Political Organisation. 

Now, Folk-lore I have defined as Folk's lore, or, that lore of the 
Folk, knowledge of which gives us our knowledge of Folk- life. And 
I have said that, as the chief materials for the study of the historical 
sciences of Mental Development are to be found in what may com- 
prehensively be called Culture-lore, the chief materials for the study of 
the historical sciences of Social Progress are to be found in what may 
be comprehensively named Folk-lore. But knowledge of Folk-lore, 
when it is systematised, becomes a Science. What is the nature of 
that Science and its place ? 

The Science of Folk-lore is a Descriptive or Classificatory Science— 
a Science, not of the Causes, but merely of the Description, and what 
that implies, when it is of a scientific character — the Arrangement, of 
phenomena. According as we retain for the Causal Science of Social 
Progress the barbarous term Sociology, or adopt for it the above- 
suggested term, Kcenoniology, its correllative Descriptive Science will 
be called Sociography, or Koenoniography. And the Science of Folk- 
lore, as a department of this General Science, might be termed 

J. S. Stuart-Glennie. 



Shrojjshire Folh-Lore : a Sheaf of Gleanings. Edited by Charlotte 
Sophia Burne, from the collectiona of Georgina F. Jackson. 
London (Triibner), Shrewsbury, and Chester, 1886. 8vo. pp. 

Miss Burne has now finished her task, and, looking back at the 
whole work, we are prepared to say that this is the best collection of 
English folk-lore that has yet appeared. It is so in a double sense. 
First, in the matter collected. Miss Jackson, to whom this portion of 
the work is primarily due, has not only known what to look for but 
how to look for it. It cannot be too often impressed upon the mind 
that to obtain the precious relics of the past enshrined in folk-lore the 
collector must proceed as one of the people. No system of question and 
answer; no cut and dried formula or method of proceedings is applicable. 
The people have cherished their beliefs in spite of advanced philosophical 
thought and advanced political surroundings, and they have surrounded 
them with a sacredness quite apart from their original signification — 
a sacredness due, not so much to traditional belief as to class prejudice. 
This sacredness has to be broken through lovingly and not harshly, 
and it has to be believed in by the enquirer and collector before it can 
be thus dealt with. For these and other reasons there is apparent on 
every page of this valuable collection that Miss Jackson and her 
fellow-worker have thoroughly entered into the spirit of their work, 
ha-ve become folk-lorists in the truest and best sense of the term. 
This volume continues from the last the customs and superstitions 
relating to the seasons, and gives chapters on the harvest, All Saints' 
and All Souls' days, and Christmas-tide. It then deals with traces of 
well-worship, wakes, fairs and feasts, morris-dancing and plays, games, 
ballads, songs, and carols, rhymes and sayings, proverbs and pro- 
verbial phrases, and notes on church bells and epitaphs. All these 
sections are full of examples of great interest and value to com- 
parative science, and any one consulting this work for its collections 
only will be well rewarded. 


When we pass from the items collected to the method in which 
they are placed before the student in the volume, it is plain that 
Miss Burne thoroughly grasps the position which folk-lore occupies 
among the sciences. If she compares, she does so with some definite 
object. If she classifies, she does so upon a rational plan, having 
for its basis the originals from which the various items of folk-lore 
have descended. This is exceedingly valuable, and marks a distinct 
advance in the treatment of folk-lore. But the proof of this is con- 
tained in the last chapter of the book. Taking note of the suggestion 
made in these columns in reviewing the second part, at least we trust 
we may so conclude. Miss Burne has applied herself to the question, 
Does the folk-lore of Shropshire present any features peculiar to that 
county ? and in order to properly answer this, she very rightly says, 
*' Before anyone can form a proper estimate of the collected folk-lore 
of a given district or can deduce correct conclusions from it, he must, 
it appears to me, make himself acquainted with the history of that 
district, and learn by what races it has been peopled, to what external 
influences it has been subjected, and under what conditions its people 
have lived and died, married and been given in marriage, bought and sold 
and got gain, from generation to generatioa. It is equally important 
that he should know something of the physical configuration of the 
county, that he may judge what influence that has had on the minds 
and habits of the inhabitants.*' And, accordingly, Miss Burne has 
traced out, shortly but succinctly, the main features of Shropshire 
history; and when we come to thoroughly understand that, as a 
border-land between Welsh and Engish, Shropshire contains marked 
racial features, we can truly estimate the significance of Miss Burne's 
contention. No one up to now has drawn a folk-lore map : but Miss 
Burne's brave attempt in this direction, so far as Shropshire is con- 
cerned, gives us a sample of what may be done. Rightly supposing 
that the old boundaries of the ecclesiastical dioceses mark yet older 
boundaries of race or primitive political conditions, Miss Burne shows 
on her map these divisions : and then from a study of the prevalence 
of yearly customs, as compared with the non-existence of them, she 
is enabled to draw a line right across the map marking out the 
boundary where yearly engagements extend, they being entered into 


at Christmas north and east of it, and at May south and west of it. 
Now this folic-lore boundary corresponds almost exactly with the 
dialectic boundary, as shewn by Miss Jackson's Shropshire Word 
Book, and it very fairly coincides with the diocesan boundaries. 
These two perfectly independent lines of research, dialect and folk- 
lore, combine to confirm Miss Burne's acute historical conclusions 
that Shropshire was invaded from two opposite quarters, north-east 
Shropshire being peopled by Mercians, and south and west Shropshire 
by West Saxons. If such interesting results as these can be gained 
by this process of noting where certain customs do not obtain, as 
compared with where they are generally current, it is for the first 
time established that folk-lore must be more systematically and locally 
studied than heretofore. And it enables us to see that those who 
contend that it is of no use repeating an account of a custom because 
it is known elsewhere are not correct. In the infancy of all sciences 
we scarcely know what is wanted ; but Miss Burne has gone far to 
establish the value of the study of folk-lore as an adjunct to history, 
and we congratulate her upon being the first to grapple with a subject 
in such a manner as must to some extent revolutionize subsequent 
study and research. 

Miss Burne has not attempted to step beyond the domain of English 
folk-lore into the dangerous but most fascinating paths of comparative 
folk-lore ; but there exists throughout her work ample material for 
such an undertaking ; and any one having the skill and knowledge to 
carry it out properly would be amply rewarded. But they must be 
careful in their work, for Miss Burne's own labours constitute a 
standing protest against any loose and slipshod method of handling 
folk-lore in the future. 

Studies in Ancient History, comprising a reprint of Primitive Marriage, 

an inquiry into the origin of the form of capture in Marriage 

Ceremonies. By the late John Ferguson McLennan. A new 

edition. London (Macmillan) : 1886. 8vo. pp. xxxi. 387. 

Few books have had greater influence upon the study of customs 

than the late Mr. McLcnnan's Primitive Marriage, and at this period, 

when his brother has just edited one portion of his literary remains in 


the recently published volume on The Patriarchal Theory, and has led 
us to eagerly anticipate the publication of some further researches, a 
new edition of this old work, uniform with these posthmuous volumes, 
is very welcome. The editor, in a short preface, makes a most neces- 
sary protest against the misuse of the terms exogamy and endogamy, 
as first used by Mr. McLennan in 1865. Exogamy is that law of 
marriage which forbids an union between persons of the same blood : 
sometimes they belong to the same tribe, more often to different 
tribes ; but it is not a question of a tribe but one of blood relation- 
ship. Endogamy is that law of marriage which enjoins an union 
between persons of the same blood ; sometimes they belong to different 
tribes, more often to the same tribe ; but here again it is not a question 
of tribe but one of blood relationship. But it has been assumed by 
writers who have dealt with these subjects that tribal, not blood 
relationship was the key to the terms exogamy and endogamy ; and 
hence much confusion has arisen. 

The subjects treated of in this volume are the same as those in the 
earlier edition of 1876, and the present editor has added such notes 
as were necessary to give additional evidence to the arguments of the 
text. The last chapter is devoted to the '' divisions in the ancient 
Irish family," known as Geilfine, Deirbfine, larfine, and Indfine, and 
Mr. McLennan advances an ingenious explanation opposed to that of 
Sir Henry Maine. But, in its turn, this explanation does not meet 
all the conditions of this curiously complex system, and in the fourth 
volume of the Brehon Law tracts Mr. McLennan's views are confuted, 
and a much more acceptable theory propounded. The editor does not 
notice this fact : but we are far from saying that it does away with 
the necessity of reprinting Mr. McLennan's masterly contribution to 
the subject, because, unquestionably, he advances some propositions 
which are undeniably true, and have largely helped the later autho- 
rities in their investigations. It is unnecessary to touch upon all the 
subjects treated of in this valuable volume because it is doubtless 
well known to our readers, having been so long a text-book to those 
interested in these fascinating problems of early history ; but we are 
tempted to complain that no index has been added to this edition. 

i^Ite c^^lli-30it ^jjmlg. 


2nd JUNE. 1886. 

During the past year the Council have been endeavouring to 
prepare the way for some important work which the Society 
ought to undertake, and they think that if sufficient support is 
given this work may be satisfactorilj'' accomplished. 

The many indications that the study and. collection of Folk- 
lore is now engaging the attention of most countries in Europe 
make it necessary that this Society, being the first to introduce 
a systematic study of Folk-lore, should as far as possible work 
in unison and confederation with similar organizations abroad, 
and should draw within its membership foreign scholars and 
students. The last Annual Report mentioned one or two efforts 
which had been made in this direction, particularly that of the 
appointment of Local Secretaries. The result of this action, 
though necessarily not very extensive at present, satisfactorily 
indicates that much might be hoped for in the future. Mr. 
Stewart Lockhart, who was appointed Local Secretary for China, 
has procured a valuable collection of birth, marriage, and burial 
ceremonies, collected from the natives of Hong Kong by Mr. 
Mitchell Innes, and has placed the MS. in the hands of the Society 
for printing. Mr. Lockhart has also translated the papers on 
the Science of Folk-lore which appeared in the Folk-Lore Journal 
for 1885 into Chinese, and has prefaced them by a few notes, 
for the purpose of placing them, as a kind of guide-book, in the 

370 EIGHTH UErORT, JUNE 1886. 

hands of native Chinese students who would help him in his 
researches. The Council think that such results as these are 
encouraging, and point the direction to which their future 
efforts should tend. 

A second very important work which the Council are of 
opinion the Society should undertake at once is the issue 
of an authoritative exposition of the scope and aim of the 
science of Folk-lore, accompanied by questions which may be 
used by travellers and collectors. During the year the Council 
were asked by the Council of the Palestine Exploration Fund 
to assist tliem in drawing up a set of questions for the use of 
collectors in Palestine. That Society had secured the services 
of some native workers, under the direction of Dr. Post, and 
they wished to be informed of the best means of employing this 
valuable help. The Council at once assented to the proposition, 
and ai^pointed a Committee to consider the best means of 
assisting the object of the Palestine Exploration Fund. The 
Committee reported that they considered the time had come 
when the Society should issue an authorised Handbook to the 
Science of Folk-lore^ similar to the Anthropological Notes and 
Queries issued by the British Association for the Advancement 
of Science, and the Council concurred in this report, re-appoint- 
ing the Committee to consider and draw up a scheme and 
code of questions. The Committee consisted of Messrs. Edward 
Clodd, H. B. Wheatley, Nutt^ Gomme, Stuart-GIennie, Captain 
Temple, Dr. Eichard Morris, and Miss Busk, and they are still 
considering this important subject. They have adopted, as a 
basis, the plan of dividing the subject into the heads suggested 
in the Folk-Lore Journal for January 1885, and they propose 
that Members of the Society and their friends should be asked 
to undertake certain sections, and send in a code of questions 
to the Committee, who will then arrange and prepare them for 
ultimate publication. The following are the divisions of the 
subject and all the Members of the Committee have under- 


taken to assist in drawing up a code of questions under each 
head : — 

Folk Tales ; 

Hero Tales ; 

Ballads and Songs ; 

Place Legends and Traditions ; 

Goblindom ; 

Witchcraft ; 

Astrology ; 

Superstitions connected with material things ; 

Local Customs ; 

Festival Customs ; 

Ceremonial Customs ; 

Games ; 

Jingles, Nursery Rhymes, Riddles, &c. ; 

Proverbs ; 

Old Saws rhymed and unrhymed ; 

Nicknames, Place- rh^-mes, and Sayings ; 


The Council desire to point out to Members the importance 
of this subject to the general student, as evidenced by Mr. 
Lockhart's efforts in China, and its special importance at the 
present time, when the Palestine Exploration Fund have, so far 
as Arabia is concerned, the means of turning to practical use 
the code of questions which may be promulgated by the 
Society. The materials collected by the Folk-tale Committee, 
who have in hand the analysis of Folk-tales, form an important 
addition to the proposed Hand-book on the Science of Folk-lore; 
and the Council, bearing in mind the work accomplished by the 
Society, and knowing how vast a field has yet to be covered, 
earnestly ask the assistance of all interested in the science 
towards carrying out the various projects now before students 
of Folk-lore. 


Assistance is chiefly needed in funds, as will be seen by a 
reference to the Treasurer's account presented herewith. To meet 
the ordinary expenses of the Society more money is needed, 
and if the work indicated above is to be carried out still further 
expenses must be incurred. It has been often suggested that 
the Society should have some local habitation where Members 
could meet from time to time for discussion or carrvinxr out 
any of the plans under consideration. It is also necessary that 
some secretarial assistance should be procured to lessen the 
burden thrown upon the Director and Honorary Secretaries. 

The Council have to report with deep regret that during the 
past year the Society has lost two of its most valued supporters, 
Mr. William J. Thoms, its Founder and Director, and Mr. 
Edward Solly, both of whom had acquired considerable repute 
as sound and laborious scholars, and who took a practical and 
never-failing interest in the Society's work. The vacancy in 
the Directorship was filled up by Mr. Gomme undertaking that 
office, and Mr. J. J. Foster kindly came forward at the wish of 
the Council to undertake the duties of Honorary Secretary in 
conjunction with Mr. A. Granger Hutt. 

It is hoped next session to organise some evening meetings 
for the reading and discussion of papers which for the last two 
or three years have not been attempted. 

The publications are slightly in arrear owing to various un- 
avoidable causes, but the two following volumes are now nearly 
through the press, and will be issued shortly : — 

Magyar Folk-Tales^ by Rev. W. H. Jones. 

Folk-lore and Provincial Names of British Birds, by Rev. 
Chas. Swainson. 

In 1886 the Council propose printing : — 
The Folk-Lore Journal, 
Hand-hook to the Science of Folk-Lore, 















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The Eighth Annual Meeting of the Folk-Lore Society was 
held on 2nd June, 1886, at the Rooms of the Society of 
Antiquaries, Burlington House. 

The Right Honourable Viscount Enfield, President, took 
the Chair. 

The President moved the adoption of the Report of the 
Council, which was seconded and carried. 

The Honorary Secretary then read the Treasurer's Account. 

It was proposed, seconded, and resolved unanimously, " That 
the Account and Statement be approved and adopted, and that 
the thanks of the Meeting be given to the Auditors and 

It was moved, seconded, and resolved unanimously, ^^ That 
Mr. A. Lang, M.A., Mr. W. R. S. Ralston, M.A., and Dr. 
Edward B. Tylor, F.R.S., be tlie Vice-Presidents of the 

"That the Earl Beauchamp, Mr. Edward Brabrook, Mr. 
Edward Clodd, Mr. G. L. Gomme, Mr. A. Granger Hutt, Mr. 
J. T. Micklethwaite, Rev. Dr. Morris, Mr. Alfred Nutt, Mr. 
Edward Peacock, Rev. Professor A. H. Sayce, Captain R. C. 
Temple, and Mr. H. B. Wheatley, be elected Members of the 
Council for the ensuing year.^"* 

It was moved, seconded, and resolved, " That Mr. John 
Tolhurst and Mr. G. L. Apperson be the Auditors of the 
Society for the ensuing year." 

It was proposed, seconded, and resolved unanimously, " That 
the thanks of the Meeting be presented to the Society of 
Antiquaries for the privilege of meeting in their rooms." 

It was proposed, seconded, and carried unanimously, " That 
this Meeting desires to express its best thanks to Viscount 
Enfield for his valuable services as President of the Society." 



Adam jam, 278 

Aggi Jataka, the pious jackal that 
knew how to count, 173 

Ales, lamb- (G. A. Kowell), 107 

, Whitsun (G. A. Rowell), 104 

Alger (Abby Langdon) : Flf/kt of the 
Witches. Translated from the oral 
original of the Pussamaquaddy dia- 
lect, 1 

American -Indian Folk -tale (J. J. 
Foster), 182 

Amusements, children's (Rev. Walter 
Grcgor), 182 

Ancient history, studies in (John 
Ferguson McLennan), 367 

Ancient proverbs and maxims from 
Burmese sources ( Jas. Gray), 270 

Animals, short sayings about, 20 

Apple-orchards and St. Peter's day, 

Attica, Old Metros, 251 

Bee, Mongolian folk-tale of the, 18 

Bibliography of folk-lore. Vernacular 
publications in the Panjab (Captain 
R. C. Temple), 273 

Boat, folk-lore of the, 10 

Bogu (the stag) Khabul-dei Mergen, 

Boroltai Ku, 82 

Borrowing days, 258 

" Brack the Bam " [Children's Amuse- 
ments], 138 

Brahman, the old, and his wife, the 
Sattubhasta Jataka, 175 

" Broo' of Knowledge " [Children's 
Amusements], 137 

Burmese sources, ancient proverbs and 
maxims from (Jas. Gray), 270 

Burac (Charlotte S.) : Classification of 
Folh-Lore, 158 ; Guhers' Play, 
Songs, and Rhymes^ from Stafford- 
shire, 350 

"Cam ye by the Stack?" [Children's 
Amusements], 155 

Camel and the moral (Reindeer), 28 

"Catch a' wee Monsie" [Children's 
Amusements], 142 

"Catie Rade t' Paisley" [Children's 
Amusements], 155 

Cesaresco (Countess Martinengo-): 
Essays in the Study of Folk-Songs, 
271 ; Story of the Koh-i-Nur, 252 

Charms, witchcraft and, 165 

Chashma-i-Shirin, 278 

Child, the Outcast (E. Sidney Hart- 
land), 308 

Children's amusements (Rev. Walter 
Gregor), 132; Teet, orTeet-bo, 133 ; 
Chin cherry, 134 ; Knock at the 
doorie, 136 ; The broo o' knowledge, 
137 ; Tae Titly, 137 ; Brack the 
barn, 138 ; This little piggie, 140 ; 
John Prott and his man, 140 ; Clap 
bandies, 142 ; Catch a wee mousie, 
142 ; The Corbie's hole, 143 ; Fittie- 
kins, 143; Shoe a horse, 143; Thetwa 
dogies, 147 ; Dance t' yir daddie, 
150 ; Heat a womle, 150 ; The lady's 
ride, 151 ; Hobble cadger, 154 ; 
Ride awa', 154 ; Cam' ye by the 
stack, 155 ; The catie rade t' Paisley, 
155 ; Glossary, 155 

" Chin Cherry " [Children's Amuse- 
ments], 134 

Chinese nation, fildjeg (the ass), the 
father of the, 23 

Christmas-eve in Cornwall, 114 

Christmas yule-log, 167 

" Clap Handles " [Children's Amuse- 
ments], 142 

Classification of Folk-lore, principles 
of the (J. S. Stuart-Glennie), 75 ; 
(Charlotte S. Burne), 158 

Clifton, Morris-dancers at (Prof. J. H. 
Middleton, F.S.A.), 184 



"Corbie's Hole," the [Children's 

Amusements], 143 
Cornish feasts and " feasten " customs 

(M. A. Courtney), 109, 221 
Courtney (M. A.): Cornish Feasts and 

" Feasten " Customs, 109, 221 
Crane (Thos. Fred.): Italian Popular 

Tales, 89 
Crow, legends of the swan, the widgeon, 

and the, 26 
Cuckoo, the, 18 
Culture-lore in the study of history, 

Eolk-lore as the complement of (J. 

S. Stuart- Glennie), 213 
Customs, Cornish feasts and " feasten " 

(Miss M. A. Courtney), 109, 221 
Donegal, &;c. 361 

Dabbhapuppha Jataka, the, 52 

"Dance t' yir Daddie " [Children's 
Amusements], 150 

Days, borrowing, 258 

Dictionary of Kashmiri proverbs and 
sayings, explained and illustrated 
from the rich and interesting folk- 
lore of the valley (Rev. J. Hinton 
Knowles), 96 

Dipi Jataka, the, 45 

Dog stories, 17 

Donegal customs, &c. 361 

Donegal superstitions (G. H. Kinahan), 
255 ; Sheetiu cattle, 255 ; Saint 
Bridget's well, 256 ; Sea-swallows 
on Lesson Fern, 258 ; Superstition 
in the co. Donegal, 258 ; Borrowing 
days, 258 

Diita Jataka, the, 54 

Easter customs in Cornwall, 223 

fidjeg (the ass), the father of the 
Chinese nation, 23 

English customs, notes on some old- 
fashioned: the Mummers, the Morris 
dancers, Whitsun-ales, Lamb -ales 
(G. A. Rowell), 97 

Eren tsain and Bai gu e ider Khan, 40 

Falconer (I. G. N. Keith): Kalilah 
and Dimnah; or, the Fables of 
Bid])ai, 185 

Farmer's boy, the, a folk-song, 262 

Feasts, Cornish, and "feasten" cus- 
toms (M. A. Courtney), 109, 221 

Fight of the witches, translated from 
the oral original of the Pussama- 
quaddy dialect, by Abby Langdon 
Alger, 1 

First people, the, 25 

Fishnig, folk-lore of the herring-, 14 

Fit, the good and ill, 12 

" Fittiekins " [Children's Amuse- 
ments], 143 

Folk-lore in Mongolia (C. Gardner): 
the cuckoo, 18; the bee, 18; Mes- 
senger of Poland bird and the snake, 
19; Olbe Letyaga, 19; short sayings 
about animals, 20; accounts of the 
origins of nations, 20 ; Khukhu 
bukha (the grey ox), the father 
of the Mongol nation, 23; fildjeg 
(the ass) the father of the Chinese 
nation, 23; Gakhai (the pig), the 
father of the Kirghis nation, 24; 
the first people, 25; Karagan, 26; 
legends of the swan, the widgeon, 
and the crow, explaining why it is 
wicked to kill them, 26; the hare's 
tail, 27; the camel and the moral 
(reindeer), 28 ; the fox and the 
wolf, 29 ; legends about Sheduir 
Van, 29; Sartaktai, 31; Boroltai 
Ku, 32 ; Khovugu and Khaduin- 
Dziuge, 37; Eren tsain and Bai gu 
e ider Khan, 40; the White Khan 
and Gunuin Khara, 41 ; Khabul- 
dei Mergen and Bogu (the stag), 44 

Folk-lore of the sea (Rev Walter 
Gregor), 7; the storm, 7; the tide, 
9; the boat, 10; the line, 12; the 
good and the ill fit, &c. 12; the 
herring-fishing, 14; the haddock, &c. 
16; dog stories, 17 

Folk-lore, principles of the classifica- 
tion of (J. S. Stuart-Glennie), 75 

classification of (Charlotte S. 

Burne), 158 

science of, with tables of 

spirit basis of belief and custom 
(Capt. R. C. Temple), 193 

as the complement of culture- 

lore in the study of history (J. S. 
Stuart-Glennie), 213 

in Southern India (Pandit 

S. M. Natesa Sastri), 267 

Kafiir (Geo. McCall TheaD, 


bibliography of vernacular 

publications in the Panjab (Capt. 
R. C. Temple), 273 

place of the science of (J. S. 

Stuart-Glennie), 363 

Shropshire, edited by Char- 

lotte Sophia Burne, 365 
Folk-songs, essays in the study of 
( Countess Martinengo - Cesaresco) , 



Folk-tales of India (Rev. Dr. Richard 
Morris), 45; the Dipi Jataka, 45; 
the Va^^Zhaki Sukara Jataka, 48; 
the Dabbhapuppha Jataka, 52; the 
Duta Jataka, 54; the Kuhaka Jataka, 
56; the Manisukara Jataka, 58; the 
Kaka Jataka, 59 ; Sabbadaf ha Jataka, 
GO ; Sigala Jataka (the greedy jackal), 
168; Visavanta Jataka, 170; the 
Suva7i7iaha«isa Jataka (the golden 
flamingo and the greedy brahman- 
woman), 171; Sanjiva Jataka, 173; 
the Aggi Jataka (the pious jackal 
that knew how to count), 173; the 
Sattubhasta Jataka (the old brah- 
man and his wife), 175 

Folk-tales, philosophy of (C. Staniland 
Wake), 63; tabulation of (A. A. 
Lamer), 80 

Fox and the wolf, 29 

Franchise of Weobley, Herefordshire, 

Frazer (James G.): Witchcraft in 
Skye, 266 

Gakliai (the pig), the father of the 

Kirghis nation, 24 
Gardner (C): Folh-Lore in Mongolia y 

Ghostly hounds at Horton (Edward 

Peacock, F.S A.), 267 
Glennie (J. S. Stuart-) : Princiijles of 

the Clashljication of Folk- Lore y lb) 

Folh-Lore as the Complement of 

Culture-Lore in the Study of His- 

tcrry, 213; Place of the Science of 

Folh-Lore, 363 
Golden flamingo and the greedy brah- 
man-woman (Suva^iwahawsa Jataka), 

Good Friday in Cornwall, 222 
Gray (Jas,): Ancient Proverbs and 

Maxims from Burmese sources, 270 
Greek myths, local, communicated by 

Y. N. Folites to Mrs. Edmonds, 250 
Gregor (Rev. Walter): Folk-Lore of 

the Sea, 7', Children's Amusements, 

Guisers' play, songs, and rhymes, from 

Staffordshire (Charlotte S. Burne), 

Gunuin Khara, the White Khan and, 


Haddock, folk-lore of the, 16 
Hare's tail, 27 

Harley (Rev. Timothy): Moon-Lore^ 

Hartland (E. Sidney): The Outcast 
Child, 308 

Harvest customs in Cornwall, 247 

Herefordshire notes (Charlotte S. 
Burne), 163; the outlandish knight, 
164; witchcraft and charms, 165; 
Mothering Sunday, 166 ; apple- 
orchards and St. Peter's day, 167; 
Christmas, 167; franchise of Weob- 
ley, Herefordshire, 168 

HeiTing-fishing, folk-lore of, 14 

History, folk-lore as the complement 
of culture-lore in the study of (J. S. 
Stuart-Glennie), 213 

"Hobble Cadger" [Children's Amuse- 
ments], 154 

Horton, ghostly hounds at (Edward 
Peacock, F.S.A.), 267 

How the WhuU-e-mooch got fire, 183 

India, folk -tales of (Rev. Dr. R. 

Morris), 45 
India, Southern, folk-lore in (Pandit 

S. M. Natesa Sastri), 267 
Italian popular tales (Thos. Fred. 

Crane), 89 

Jackal, the greedy (Sigala Jataka), 168 
"John Prott and his Man" [Children's 

Amusements], 140 
Juggy's well, Monkstown, co. Dublin, 


Kaffir folk-lore (Geo. McCall Theal), 

Kaka Jataka, the, 69 

Kalilah and Dimnah; or, the Fables of 
Bidpai (I. G. N. Keith Falconer), 

Karagan, 26 

Kashmiri proverbs and sayings, dic- 
tionary of, explained and illustrated 
from the rich and interesting folk- 
lore of the valley (Rev. J. Hinton 
Knowles), 96 

Khabul-dei Mergen and Bogu (the 
stag), 44 

Khan, White, and Gunuin Khara, 41 

Khovugu and Khaduin-Dziuge, 37 

Khukhu bukha (the grey ox), the 
father of the Mongol nation, 23 

Kinahan (G. H.): Lime from Sea- 
Shells for Charms and Medical 
Ptirjwses, 265 



Kirghis nation, Gakhai (the pig), the 

father of the, 24 
Knillian games, 243 
"Knock at the Doorie" [Children's 

Amusements], 136 
Knowles (Rev. J. Hinton) : Dlctionai'y 

of Kashmiri Proverbs and Sayings, 

explained and illustrated from the 

rich and interesting Folh-Lore of 

the Valley, 96 
Koh-i-Nur, story of the (Countess 

Martinengo-Cesaresco), 252 
Kuhaha Jataka, the, 56 

Lady's ride, the [Children's Amuse- 
ments], 151 
Lamb-ales (G. A. Rowell), 107 
Lancashire milking-song, 261 
Larner (A. A.) : Tabulation of Folk- 
Talcs, 80 
Legends of the Panjab (Capt. R. C. 
Temple), 94 

of St. Columbkille of Gartan, 


about Shcduir Van, 29 

of the swan, the widgeon, 

and the crow, explaining why it is 
wicked to kill them, 26 
Lesson Fern, sea-swallows on, 258 
Lime from sea-shells for charms and 
medical purposes (G. H. Kinahan), 
Line, the, 12 

Local Greek myths, communicated by 
Y. N. Polites to Mrs. Edmonds, 250 

McLennan (John Ferguson): Studies 
in Ancient History, comprising a 
reprint of Primitive Marriage, 
an inquiry into the origin of the 
form of capture in Marriage Cere- 
monies, 367 

Majmu'a Qisas, 280 

Mainsukara Jataka, the, 58 

Marino (Dr. Salamone-): Le Repxita- 
trici in Sicilia, 269 

Mary, the Stringlas, 250 

Masnavi Bo'ali Qalandar, 275 

Nal Daman, 283 

May day in Cornwall, 223 

Middleton (Prof. J. H., F.S.A.): 
Morris Dancers at Clifton, 184 

Milking-song, Lancashire, 261 

Mongol nation, Khukhu bukha (the 
grey ox), the father of the, 23 

Mongolia, folk-lore in, 18 

Moon-lore (Rev. Timothy Harley), 95 

Moral (reindeer), camel and the, 28 
Morisco, the, or morris dance (G. A. 

Rowell), 101 
Morning song, 228 
Morris (Rev. Dr. R.): Folk-Tales of 

India, 45, 168 
Morris dance, the morisco, or (G. A. 

Rowell), 101 
dancers at Clifton (Prof. J. 

H. Middleton, F.S.A.), 184 
Mothering Sunday, 166 
Mummers, the (G. A. Rowell), 97 

Nations, accounts of the origins of, 20 
Nauratan, 285 

Notes and Queries, 182, 265, 363 
Notices and News, 89, 185, 267, 365 

Olbe Letyaga, 19 

Old-fashioned English customs, notes 
on some : the Mummers, the Morris 
dancers, Whitsun-ales, Lamb -ales 
(G. A. Rowell), 97 

Old Metros, Attica, 251 

Origins of nations, accounts of the, 20 

Outcast Child, the (E. Sidney Hart- 
land), 308 

Outlandish Knight, the, 164 

Palm Sunday in Cornwall, 223 

Panjab, legends of the (Capt. R. C. 
Temple), 94; vernacular publications 
in the, bibliography of folk-lore 
(Capt. R. C. Temple), 273 

Peacock (Edward, F.S.A.) : Witch- 
craft in Yorkshire, 265 ; Ghostly 
Hounds at Horton, 267 

People, the first, 25 

Philosophy of folk-tales (C. Staniland 
Wake), 63 

Place of the science of folk-lore (J. S. 
Stuart-Glennie), 363 

Poland bird, and the snake. Messenger 
of, 19 

Popular tales, Italian (Thos. Fred. 
Crane), 89 

Principles of the classification of folk- 
lore (J. S, Stuart-Glennie), 75 

Pussamaquaddy dialect, fight of the 
witches, translated from the oral 
original of the, by Abby Langdon 
Alger, 1 

Qissa Agar o Gul, 282 

Gul-o-Sanaubar, 276 

Jamja Badshah, 281 



Qissa Kamrup, 279 

Mirza \va Sahiban, 278 

Saudagar Bachcha, 281 

Shah Kum, 280 

Shekh Mansur, 281 

Siyah-Posh, 274 

Surajpur, 274 

"Ride Awa" [Children's Amuse- 
ments], 154 

Rowell (G-. A.) : Notes on some Old- 
fashioned English Customs : The 
Mummers ; The Morris-dancers ; 
Whitsun-ales ; Lamb-ales, 97 

Sabbada?^ha Jataka, the, 60 

St. Brigid's well, 256 

St. Columbkille of Gartan, legends of, 

Saiijiva Jataka, 173 
Sartaktai, 31 
Sassi wa Punnun, 277 
Sastri (Pandit S. M. Natesa), Folk- 

Lore in Southern India, 267 
Sattubhasta Jataka, the old brahman 

and his wife, 175 
Science of Folk-lore, with tables of 

spirit basis of belief and custom 

(Capt. R. C. Temple), 193 
Science of Folk-lore, place of the (J, 

S. Stuart-Glennie), 363 
Sea, Folk-lore of the (Rev. Walter 

Gregor), 7 
Sea-shells, lime from, for charms and 

medical purposes (G. H. Kinahan), 

Sea- swallows on Lesson Fern, 258 
Sheduir Van, legends about, 29 
Sheetin cattle, 255 
" Shoe a Horse " [Children's Amuse- 

mentb], 143 
Short sayings about animals, 20 
Shropshire Folk-lore, edited by Char- 
lotte Sophia Burne, 365 
Shrove-Tuesday in Cornwall, 131 
Sicilia, Le Reputatrici in (Dr. Sala- 

mone-Marino), 269 
Sigala Jataka (the greedy Jackal), 

Sikandamama, 283 
Skye, witchcraft in ( Jas. G. Frazer), 

Snake, Messenger of Poland bird and 

the, 19 
Song, Lancashire milking-, 261 
Song, tinker's, 259 
Songs (Charlotte S. Burue), 259 

Souling songs, Staffordshire, 357 

Soz 'Ishq, 275 

Staffordshire, guisers' play, songs, and 

rhymes, from (Miss C. S. Burne), 

Staffordshire souling-songs, 357 
Spirit basis of belief and custom, tables 

of, the science of Folk-lore with 

(Capt. R. C. Temple), 193 
Stang riding, with rhyme, 261 
Stories, dog, 17 
Story of the Koh-i-Nur (Countess 

Martinengo-Cesaresco), 252 
Storm, the, 7 
Stringlas, the, Mary, 250 
Superstition in the co. Donegal, 258 
Suvaw/iahawsa Jataka (the golden 

flamingo and the greedy brahman 

woman), 171 
Swan, the widgeon, and the crow, 

legends of the, 26 

Tables of spirit basis of belief and 
custom, the science of Folk-lore 
with (Capt. R. C. Temple), 193 

Tabulation of Folk-tales (A. A. 
Larner), 80 

«Tae Titly" [Children's Amuse- 
ments], 137 

Tail, the hare's, 27 

Tales, Italian popular (Thos. Fred. 
Crane), 89 

" Teet, or Teet-bo " [Children's Amuse- 
ments], 133 

Temple (Capt. R. C.) : Legends of the 
Punjab, 94 ; The Science of Folk- 
Lore, with Tables of Spirit Basis of 
Belief and Custom, 193 

" The Twa Dogies " [Children's 
Amusements], 147 

Theal (Geo. McCall) : Kaffir Folk- Lore, 

"This little Piggie" [Children's 
Amusements]. 140 

Tide, the, 9 

Tinker's song, 259 

Va<^<^haki Sukara Jataka, the, 48 
Visavanta Jataka, 170 

Wake (C. Staniland): Philosophy of 

Folh-Talcs, 63 
Weobley, franchise of, Herefordshire, 

White Khan and Gunuin Khara, 41 
Whitsun-ales (G. A. Rowell), 104 





Whitsuntide in Cornwall, 233 
Whull-e-mooch, how the, got fire, 183 
Widgeon, the swan, and the crow, 

legends of the, 26 
Witchcraft in Skye (Jas. G. Eraser), 

in Yorkshire (Edward 

Peacock, F.S.A.), 265 
and charms, 165 

Witches, fight the, translated from 
the oral orig al of the Pussama- 
quaddy dialeci by Abby Langdon 
Alge7-, 1 

Wolf, the fox and the, 29 

Yorkshire, witchcraft in (Edward 

Peacock, F.S.A.), 265 
Yule log, the, 167 

Printed by NiCHOLS and Sons. 25, Parliament Street, Westminster, S.W. 


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