Tales from the Fjeld: A Second Series of Popular Tales. Asbjørnsen Peter Christen
else, I can smoulder and smoke;' and so it fell a-smoking and steaming till the room was all in a cloud.
"The Axe saw this, as it stood outside, and peeped with its shaft through the window, —
"'What's all this smoke about, Mrs. Stove?' said the Axe, in a sharp voice.
"'Why not? said the Stove; 'when goodman Chanticleer has fallen into the cask and drowned himself; dame Partlet sits in the ingle, sighing and sobbing; the Handquern grinds and groans; the Chair creaks and cracks, and the Door bangs and slams. That's why I smoke and steam.'
"'Well, if I can do naught else, I can rive and rend,' said the Axe; and, with that, it fell to riving and rending all round about.
"This the Aspen stood by and saw.
"'Why do you rive and rend everything so, Mr. Axe?' said the Aspen.
"'Goodman Chanticleer has fallen into the ale-cask and drowned himself,' said the Axe; 'dame Partlet sits in the ingle, sighing and sobbing; the Handquern grinds and groans; the Chair creaks and cracks; the Door slams and bangs, and the Stove smokes and steams. That's why I rive and rend all about.'
"'Well, if I can do naught else,' said the Aspen, 'I can quiver and quake in all my leaves;' so it grew all of a quake.
"The Birds saw this, and twittered out, —
"'Why do you quiver and quake, Miss Aspen?'
"'Goodman Chanticleer has fallen into the ale-cask and drowned himself,' said the Aspen, with a trembling voice; 'dame Partlet sits in the ingle, sighing and sobbing; the Handquern grinds and groans; the Chair creaks and cracks; the Door slams and bangs; the Stove steams and smokes; and the Axe rives and rends. That's why I quiver and quake.'
"Well, if we can do naught else, we will pluck off all our feathers,' said the Birds; and, with that, they fell a-pilling and plucking themselves till the room was full of feathers.
"This the Master stood by and saw, and, when the feathers flew about like fun, he asked the Birds, —
"'Why do you pluck off all your feathers, you Birds?'
"'Oh! goodman Chanticleer has fallen into the ale-cask and drowned himself,' twittered out the Birds; 'dame Partlet sits sighing and sobbing in the ingle; the Handquern grinds and groans; the Chair creaks and cracks; the Door slams and bangs; the Stove smokes and steams; the Axe rives and rends, and the Aspen quivers and quakes. That's why we are pilling and plucking all our feathers off.'
"'Well, if I can do nothing else, I can tear the brooms asunder,' said the man; and, with that, he fell tearing and tossing the brooms till the birch-twigs flew about east and west.
"The goody stood cooking porridge for supper, and saw all this.
"'Why, man!' she called out; 'what are you tearing the brooms to bits for?'
"'Oh!' said the man, 'goodman Chanticleer has fallen into the ale-vat and drowned himself; dame Partlet sits sighing and sobbing in the ingle; the Handquern grinds and groans; the Chair cracks and creaks; the Door slams and bangs; the Stove smokes and steams; the Axe rives and rends; the Aspen quivers and quakes; the Birds are pilling and plucking all their feathers off, and that's why I am tearing the besoms to bits.'
"'So, so!' said the goody; 'then I'll dash the porridge over all the walls;' and she did it; for she took one spoonful after the other and dashed it against the walls, so that no one could see what they were made of for very porridge.
"That was how they drank the burial ale after goodman Chanticleer, who fell into the brewing-vat and was drowned; and, if you don't believe it, you may set off thither and have a taste both of the ale and the porridge."
When Christine ended, I did not tell them what I could now tell them, that this story of The Death of Chanticleer is mutatis mutandis, the very same story as one in Grimm's Tales, and another in the Scotch collection of Robert Chambers. But alas! I heard The Death of Chanticleer up on the Fjeld long before those Scotch Stories appeared in print, and so, as some of these stories say, I could tell them nothing about it.
Karin was not so good a story-teller as Christine, but she still told her story well. Besides, it was harder to tell, and required an effort of memory, like that needed in our This is the House that Jack built. The Greedy Cat has a wildness of its own, and is full of humour. Here it is —
"Once on a time there was a man who had a cat, and she was so awfully big, and such a beast to eat, he couldn't keep her any longer. So she was to go down to the river with a stone round her neck, but before she started she was to have a meal of meat. So the goody set before her a bowl of porridge and a little trough of fat. That she crammed into her, and ran off and jumped through the window. Outside stood the goodman by the barn door, threshing.
"'Good day, goodman,' said the cat.
"'Good day, pussy,' said the goodman; 'have you had any food to-day?'
"'Oh, I've had a little, but I'm 'most fasting,' said the cat; 'it was only a bowl of porridge and a trough of fat – and, now I think of it, I'll take you too,' and so she took the goodman and gobbled him up.
"When she had done that, she went into the byre, and there sat the goody milking.
"'Good day, goody,' said the cat.
"'Good day, pussy,' said the goody; 'are you here, and have you eaten up your food yet?'
"'Oh, I've eaten a little to-day, but I'm 'most fasting,' said pussy; 'it was only a bowl of porridge, and a trough of fat, and the goodman – and, now I think of it, I'll take you too,' and so she took the goody and gobbled her up.
"'Good day, you cow at the manger,' said the cat to Daisy the cow.
"'Good day, pussy,' said the bell-cow; 'have you had any food to-day?'
"'Oh, I've had a little, but I'm 'most fasting,' said the cat; 'I've only had a bowl of porridge, and a trough of fat, and the goodman, and the goody – and, now I think of it, I'll take you too,' and so she took the cow and gobbled her up.
"Then off she set up into the home-field, and there stood a man picking up leaves.
"'Good day, you leaf-picker in the field,' said the cat.
"'Good day, pussy; have you had anything to eat to-day?' said the leaf-picker.
"'Oh, I've had a little, but I'm 'most fasting,' said the cat; 'it was only a bowl of porridge, and a trough of fat, and the goodman and the goody, and Daisy the cow – and, now I think of it, I'll take you too.' So she took the leaf-picker and gobbled him up.
"Then she came to a heap of stones, and there stood a stoat and peeped out.
"'Good day, Mr. Stoat of Stoneheap,' said the cat.
"'Good day, Mrs. Pussy; have you had anything to eat to-day?'
"'Oh, I've had a little, but I'm 'most fasting,' said the cat; 'it was only a bowl of porridge, and a trough of fat, and the goodman, and the goody, and the cow, and the leaf-picker – and, now I think of it, I'll take you too.' So she took the stoat and gobbled him up.
"When she had gone a bit farther, she came to a hazel-brake, and there sat a squirrel gathering nuts.
"'Good day, Sir Squirrel of the Brake,' said the cat.
"'Good day, Mrs. Pussy; have you had anything to eat to-day?'
"'Oh, I've had a little, but I'm 'most fasting,' said the cat; 'it was only a bowl of porridge, and a trough of fat, and the goodman, and the goody, and the cow, and the leaf-picker, and the stoat – and, now I think of it, I'll take you too.' So she took the squirrel and gobbled him up.
"When she had gone a little farther, she saw Reynard the Fox, who was prowling about by the woodside.
"'Good day, Reynard Slyboots,' said the cat.
"'Good day, Mrs. Pussy; have you had anything to eat to-day?'
"'Oh, I've had a little, but I'm 'most fasting,' said the cat; 'it was only a bowl of porridge, and a trough of fat, and the goodman, and the goody, and the cow, and the leaf-picker, and the stoat, and the squirrel – and,