The stories La tells....

There was once an old woman who had an only daughter. The lass was good and amiable, and also extremely beautiful, but at the same time so indolent that she would hardly turn her hand to any work. This was a cause of great grief to the mother, who tried all sorts of ways to cure her daughter of so lamentable a failing. But there was no help. The old woman then thought no better plan could be devised than to set her daughter to spin on the roof of their cottage, in order that all the world might be witness of her sloth. But her plan brought her no nearer the mark. The girl continued as useless as before.

One day, as the king's son was going to the chase, he rode by the cottage where the old woman dwelt with her daughter. On seeing the fair spinner on the roof, he stopped and inquired why she sat spinning in such an unusual place.

The old woman answered, "Aye, she sits there to let all the world see how clever she is. She is so clever that she can spin gold out of clay and long straw."

At these words the prince was struck with wonder, for it never occurred to him that the old woman was ironically alluding to her daughter's sloth. He therefore said, "If what you say is true, that the young maiden can spin gold from clay and long straw, she shall no longer sit there, but shall accompany me to my palace and be my consort."

The daughter thereupon descended from the roof and accompanied the prince to the royal residence, where, seated in her maiden-bower, she received a pail full of clay and a bundle of straw, by way of trial, whether she were so skillful as her mother had said.

The poor girl now found herself in a very uncomfortable state, knowing but too well that she could not spin flax, much less gold. So, sitting in her chamber, with her head resting on her hand, she wept bitterly. While she was thus sitting, the door was opened, and in walked a very little old man, who was both ugly and deformed. The old man greeted her in a friendly tone, and asked why she sat so lonely and afflicted.

"I may well be sorrowful," answered the girl. "The king's son has commanded me to spin gold from clay and long straw, and if it be not done before tomorrow's dawn, my life is at stake."

The old man then said, "Fair maiden, weep not, I will help you. Here is a pair of gloves. When you have then on you will be able to spin gold. Tomorrow night I will return, when, if you have not found out my name, you shall accompany me home and be my wife."

In her despair she agreed to the old man's condition, who then went his way. The maiden now sat and span, and by dawn she had already spun up all the clay and straw, which had become the finest gold it was possible to see.

Great was the joy throughout the whole palace, that the king's son had got a bride who was so skillful and, at the same time, so fair. But the young maiden did nothing but weep, and the more the time advanced the more she wept, for she thought of the frightful dwarf who was to come and fetch her. When evening drew nigh, the king's son returned from the chase, and went to converse with his bride. Observing that she appeared sorrowful, he strove to divert her in all sorts of ways, and said he would tell her of a curious adventure, provided only she would be cheerful. The girl entreated him to let her hear it.

Then said the prince, "While rambling about in the forest today I witness an odd sort of thing. I saw a very, very little old man dancing round a juniper bush and singing a singular song."

"What did he sing?" asked the maiden inquisitively, for she felt sure that the prince had met with the dwarf.

"He sang these words, answered the prince,

Today I the malt shall grind,
Tomorrow my wedding shall be.
And the maiden sits in her bower and weeps;
She knows not what I am called.
I am called Titteli Ture.
I am called Titteli Ture.

Was not the maiden now glad? She begged the prince to tell her over and over again what the dwarf had sung. He then repeated the wonderful song, until she had imprinted the old man's name firmly in her memory. She then conversed lovingly with her betrothed, and the prince could not sufficiently praise his young bride's beauty and understanding. But he wondered why she was so overjoyed, being like everyone else, ignorant of the cause of her past sorrow.

When it was night, and the maiden was sitting alone in her chamber, the door was opened, and the hideous dwarf again entered. On beholding him the girl sprang up, and said, "Titteli Ture! Titteli Ture! Here are your gloves."

When the dwarf heard his name pronounced, he was furiously angry, and hastened away through the air, taking with him the whole roof of the house.

The fair maiden now laughed to herself and was joyful beyond measure. She then lay down to sleep, and slept till the sun shone. The following day her marriage with the young prince was solemnized, and nothing more was ever heard of Titteli Ture.


* retold by Benjamin Thorpe in Yule-Tide Stories: A Collection of Scandinavian and North German Popular Tales and Traditions, from the Swedish, Danish, and German published 1853
story found online here

"Once upon a time....."

Those familiar words are the beginning of many exciting folk tales, fables and fairy tales. March 22nd through 28th is World Folk Tales and Fables Week.

It's a week to encourage children and adults to explore the lessons to be learned from folk tales, fables, myths and legends from around the world. These stories vary from culture to culture but they often have similar morals, themes and characters. Sharing folk tales , fables and fairy tales with children is also a great way to enhance their literary skill.

Below is a list of folk tale related links:

SurLaLune Fairytales.com

LongLongTimeAgo.com stories for children

PBS Super Why

Aesops Fables Online

Books to Read during World Folk Tales and Fables Week

Picture Books based on Folk and Fairy Tales

African American Folktales for Black History Month

Now for our story.....

The Girl Who Could Spin Gold from Clay and Long Straw.....a tale from Sweden

There was once an old woman who had an only daughter. The lass was good and amiable, and also extremely beautiful, but at the same time so indolent that she would hardly turn her hand to any work. This was a cause of great grief to the mother, who tried all sorts of ways to cure her daughter of so lamentable a failing. But there was no help. The old woman then thought no better plan could be devised than to set her daughter to spin on the roof of their cottage, in order that all the world might be witness of her sloth. But her plan brought her no nearer the mark. The girl continued as useless as before.

One day, as the king's son was going to the chase, he rode by the cottage where the old woman dwelt with her daughter. On seeing the fair spinner on the roof, he stopped and inquired why she sat spinning in such an unusual place.

The old woman answered, "Aye, she sits there to let all the world see how clever she is. She is so clever that she can spin gold out of clay and long straw."

At these words the prince was struck with wonder, for it never occurred to him that the old woman was ironically alluding to her daughter's sloth. He therefore said, "If what you say is true, that the young maiden can spin gold from clay and long straw, she shall no longer sit there, but shall accompany me to my palace and be my consort."

The daughter thereupon descended from the roof and accompanied the prince to the royal residence, where, seated in her maiden-bower, she received a pail full of clay and a bundle of straw, by way of trial, whether she were so skillful as her mother had said.

The poor girl now found herself in a very uncomfortable state, knowing but too well that she could not spin flax, much less gold. So, sitting in her chamber, with her head resting on her hand, she wept bitterly. While she was thus sitting, the door was opened, and in walked a very little old man, who was both ugly and deformed. The old man greeted her in a friendly tone, and asked why she sat so lonely and afflicted.

"I may well be sorrowful," answered the girl. "The king's son has commanded me to spin gold from clay and long straw, and if it be not done before tomorrow's dawn, my life is at stake."

The old man then said, "Fair maiden, weep not, I will help you. Here is a pair of gloves. When you have then on you will be able to spin gold. Tomorrow night I will return, when, if you have not found out my name, you shall accompany me home and be my wife."

In her despair she agreed to the old man's condition, who then went his way. The maiden now sat and span, and by dawn she had already spun up all the clay and straw, which had become the finest gold it was possible to see.

Great was the joy throughout the whole palace, that the king's son had got a bride who was so skillful and, at the same time, so fair. But the young maiden did nothing but weep, and the more the time advanced the more she wept, for she thought of the frightful dwarf who was to come and fetch her. When evening drew nigh, the king's son returned from the chase, and went to converse with his bride. Observing that she appeared sorrowful, he strove to divert her in all sorts of ways, and said he would tell her of a curious adventure, provided only she would be cheerful. The girl entreated him to let her hear it.

Then said the prince, "While rambling about in the forest today I witness an odd sort of thing. I saw a very, very little old man dancing round a juniper bush and singing a singular song."

"What did he sing?" asked the maiden inquisitively, for she felt sure that the prince had met with the dwarf.

"He sang these words, answered the prince,

I dag skall jag maltet mala,
I morgon skall mitt bröllopp vara.
Och jungfrun sitter i buren och gråter;
Hon ver inte havad jag heter.
Jag heter Titteli Ture.
Jag heter Titteli Ture.


Today I the malt shall grind,
Tomorrow my wedding shall be.
And the maiden sits in her bower and weeps;
She knows not what I am called.
I am called Titteli Ture.
I am called Titteli Ture.

Was not the maiden now glad? She begged the prince to tell her over and over again what the dwarf had sung. He then repeated the wonderful song, until she had imprinted the old man's name firmly in her memory. She then conversed lovingly with her betrothed, and the prince could not sufficiently praise his young bride's beauty and understanding. But he wondered why she was so overjoyed, being like everyone else, ignorant of the cause of her past sorrow.

When it was night, and the maiden was sitting alone in her chamber, the door was opened, and the hideous dwarf again entered. On beholding him the girl sprang up, and said, "Titteli Ture! Titteli Ture! Here are your gloves."

When the dwarf heard his name pronounced, he was furiously angry, and hastened away through the air, taking with him the whole roof of the house.

The fair maiden now laughed to herself and was joyful beyond measure. She then lay down to sleep, and slept till the sun shone. The following day her marriage with the young prince was solemnized, and nothing more was ever heard of Titteli Ture.

* Story Source:Benjamin Thorpe, Yule-Tide Stories: A Collection of Scandinavian and North German Popular Tales and Traditions, from the Swedish, Danish, and German (London: Henry G. Bohn, 1853)

Oh my Goodness!! I almost missed it. Today is National Tell a Fairy Tale Day!
I have no idea who started it or how long its been around but HEY! who cares??

It's a great idea! Let's all get out there and share fairy tale with someone....anyone!
Almost everyone can think of at least one fairy tale that they like or know.

What about Sleeping Beauty, Red Riding Hood, Cinderella, Hansel and Gretel, Goldilocks, Jack and the Beanstalk, Princess and the Pea, Rapunzel, Rumplestilskin, Ugly Duckling, the Shoemaker and the Elves....I could go on and on.

In honor of the day I am posting a fairy tale that isn't very well known but it's lots of fun.

The Wood Fairy...a tale from Central Europe

Once upon a time there was a little girl named Betushka. She lived with her mother, a poor widow who had only a tumbledown cottage and two goats. But in spite of this poverty, Betushka was always merry.

From spring to autumn, Betushka drove the goats each day to pasture in a birch wood. Every morning her mother put a slice of bread and an empty spindle into her bag. The spindle would hold the flaxen thread she would spin while she watched the goats. She was too poor to own a distaff on which to wind the flax, so she wound it around her head, to carry it thus to the wood.

"Work hard, Betushka," her mother always said, "and fill the spindle before you return home."

Off skipped Betushka, singing along the way. She danced behind the goats into the wood of birch trees and sat down under a tree. With her left hand she pulled fibers from the flax around her head and with her right hand twirled her spindle so that it hummed over the ground. All the time she sang merrily and the goats nibbled the green grass among the trees.

When the sun showed that it was midday, Betushka stopped her spinning. She gave each of the goats a morsel of bread and picked a few strawberries to eat with what remained. After this, she sprang up and danced. The sun shone even more warmly and the birds sang yet more sweetly.

After her dance, Betushka began again to spin busily. At evening when she drove the goats home she was able to hand her mother a spindle full of flaxen thread.

One fine spring day, when Betushka was ready as usual to dance, suddenly there appeared before her a most beautiful maiden. Her white dress floated about her as thin as gossamer, her golden hair flowed to her waist, and a wreath of forest blossoms crowned her head. Betushka was struck silent.

The wood fairy smiled at her and in a sweet voice asked, "Betushka, do you like to dance?"

At this, Betushka lost her fear. "Oh! I could dance all the day long!"

"Come then, let us dance together. I will teach you." She took Betushka and began to dance with her.

Round and round they circled, while sweet music sounded over their heads. The maiden had called upon the birds sitting in the birch trees to accompany them.

Nightingales, larks, goldfinches, thrushes, and a clever mockingbird sang such sweet melodies that Betushka's heart filled with delight. She quite forgot her goats and her spinning. On and on she danced, with feet never weary, until evening when the last rosy rays of sunset were disappearing. The music ceased and the maiden vanished as suddenly as she had come.

Betushka looked around. There was her spindle -- only half filled with thread. Sadly she put it into her bag and drove the goats from the wood. She did not sing while going down the road this time, but reproached herself for forgetting her duty. She resolved that she would not do this again. When she reached home she was so quiet that her mother asked if she were ill.

"No, Mother, I am not ill." But she did not tell her mother about the lovely maiden. She hid the half-filled spindle, promising herself to work twice as hard tomorrow to make up for today.

Early the next morning Betushka again drove the goats to pasture, singing merrily as usual. She entered the wood and began her spinning, intending to do twice her usual amount.

At noon Betushka picked a few strawberries, but she did not dance. To her goats she said, "Today, I dare not dance. Why don't you dance, my little goats?"

"Come and dance with me," called a voice. It was the beautiful maiden.

But this time Betushka was afraid, and she was also ashamed. She asked the maiden to leave her alone. "Before sunset, I must finish my spinning," she said.

The maiden answered, "If you will dance with me, someone will help you finish your spinning." With the birds singing beautifully as before, Betushka could not resist. She and the maiden began to dance, and again they danced till evening.

Now when Betushka looked at her nearly empty spindle, she burst into tears. But the maiden unwound the flax from Betushka's head, twined it around a slender birch tree, seized the spindle, and began to spin. The spindle hummed over the ground and grew thick with thread. By the time the sun had dropped from sight, all the flax was spun. As the maiden handed the full spindle to Betushka, she said, "Wind it and grumble not. Remember, wind it and grumble not." Then, suddenly, she disappeared.

Betushka, happy now, drove the goats home, singing as she went, and gave her mother the full spindle. Betushka's mother, however, was not pleased with what Betushka had failed to do the day before and asked her about it. Betushka told her that she had danced, but she kept the maiden a secret.

The next day Betushka went still earlier to the birch wood. The goats grazed while she sang and spun, until at noon the beautiful maiden appeared and again seized Betushka by the waist to dance. While the birds sang for them, the two danced on and on, Betushka quite forgetting her spindle and the goats.

When the sun was setting, Betushka looked around. There was the half-filled spindle! But the maiden grasped Betushka's bag, became invisible for a moment, then handed back the bag stuffed with something light. She ordered her not to look into it before reaching home, and with these words she disappeared.

Betushka started home, not daring to look into the bag. But halfway there she was unable to resist peeking, for the bag was so light she feared a trick. She looked into the bag, and began to weep. It was full of dry birch leaves! Angrily she tossed some of these out of the bag, but suddenly she stopped -- she knew they would make good litter for the goats to sleep on.

Now she was almost afraid to go home. There her mother was awaiting her. "What kind of spindle did you bring me yesterday?" she asked. "I wound and wound, but the spindle remained full. 'Some evil spirit has spun you,' I grumbled, and at that instant the thread vanished from the spindle. Tell me what this means."

Betushka then told her mother about the maiden and their dancing. "That was a wood fairy," exclaimed her mother, alarmed. "The wood fairies dance at midday and at midnight. If you had been a little boy, you might not have escaped alive. But to little girls, the wood fairies often give rich presents." Next, she added. "To think that you did not tell me. If I had not grumbled I might have had a room full of thread."

Betushka then thought of her bag and wondered if there might not, after all, be something under those leaves. She lifted out the spindle and the unspun flax. "Look, Mother!" Her mother looked and clapped her hands. Under the spindle the birch leaves had turned to gold!

Betushka told her mother how the fairy had directed her not to look into the bag until she got home, but that she had not obeyed and had thrown out some of the leaves. "Tis fortunate you did not empty out the whole bagful," said her mother.


The next morning Betushka and her mother went into the wood, to look carefully over the ground where Betushka had thrown out the dry leaves. Only fresh birch leaves lay there, but the gold that Betushka did bring home was enough for a farm with a garden and some cows. She wore beautiful dresses and no longer had to graze the goats. Nothing, however, gave her such delight as she had had dancing with the wood fairy. Often she ran to the birch wood, hoping to see the beautiful maiden, but never again did the wood fairy appear.

************************************

Anyhoo, if, like me, you missed most of Fairy Tale day, don't despair!
Tomorrow is Saturday...a great day to go out and spread the joy of Fairy Tales!!

Happy Telling!

ONCE upon a time, ever so many years ago, Truth suddenly vanished from out of the world.

When people perceived this, they were greatly alarmed and at once sent five wise men in search of Truth.
They set out, one in this direction and one in that, all plentifully equipped with traveling expenses and good intentions.
They sought for ten long years.
Then they returned, each separately.
While still at a distance, they waved their hats and shouted that they had found Truth.

The first stepped forward and declared that Truth was Science.
He was not able to finish his report, however; for before he had done, another thrust him aside and shouted that that was a lie, that Truth was Theology and that he had found it.
Now while these two were at loggerheads--for the Science man replied to the attack vigorously--there came a third and said, in beautiful words, that Love was Truth, without a doubt.
Then came the fourth and stated, quite curtly, that he had Truth in his pocket, that it was Gold, and that all the rest was childish nonsense.
At last came the fifth.
He could not stand on his legs, gave a gurgling laugh, and said that Truth was Wine. He had found Truth in Wine, after looking everywhere.

Then the five wise men began to fight, and they pummeled one another so lustily that it was horrible to see.

Science had its head broken, and Love was so greatly ill-treated that it had to change its clothes before it could show itself again in respectable society.

Gold was so thoroughly stripped of every covering that people felt awkward about knowing it; and the bottle broke and Wine flowed away into the mud.

But Theology came off worst of all: everybody had a blow at it and it received such a blasting that it became the laughingstock of all beholders.

And people took sides, some with this one and some with that, and they shouted so loud that they could neither see nor hear for the din.

But far away, at the extreme end of the earth, sat a few and mourned because they thought that Truth had gone to pieces and would never be made whole again.

Now as they sat there, a little girl came running up and said that she had found Truth. If they would just come with her--it was not very far--Truth was sitting in the midst of the world, in a green meadow.

Then there came a pause in the fighting, for the little girl looked so very sweet.
First one went with her; then another; and ever more... At last, they were all in the meadow and there discovered a figure the like of which they had never seen before.

There was no distinguishing whether it was a man or a woman, an adult or a child.

Its forehead was pure as that of one who knows no sin; its eyes deep and serious as those of one who has read into the heart of the whole world.

Its mouth opened with the brightest smile and then quivered with a sadness greater than any could describe.

Its hand was soft as a mother's and strong as the hand of a king; its foot trod the earth firmly, yet crushed not a flower.

And then the figure had large, soft wings, like the birds that fly at night.

Now at they stood there and stared, the figure drew itself erect and cried, in a voice that sounded like bells ringing:

"I am Truth!"

"It's a Fairy Tale!" said Science.

"It's a Fairy Tale!" cried Theology and Love and Gold and Wine.

Then the five wise men and their followers went away, and they continued to fight until the world was shaken to its center.

But a few old and weary men and a few young men with ardent and eager souls and many women and thousands of children with great wide eyes: these remained in the meadow where the Fairy Tale was.


Ewald, Carl. "The Story of a Fairy Tale." Alexander Teixeira de Mattos, translator. 1905.

The story can also be found in Spells of Enchantment: The Wondrous Fairy Tales of Western Culture, edited by Jack Zipes.

I first heard this story told by Jack Zipes when he was a guest on
The Art of Storytelling with Children
He said that he felt this story was very relevant today and I believe that I have to agree with him.

the picture at the top of the blog is In Truth There Is Love by Elvira Amrhein

The Spindle, The Shuttle, and The Needle

There was once a girl whose father and mother died while she was still a little child. All alone, in a small house at the end of the village, dwelt her godmother, who supported herself by spinning, weaving, and sewing.

The old woman took the forlorn child to live with her, kept her to her work, and educated her in all that is good.

When the girl was fifteen years old, the old woman became ill, called the child to her bedside, and said, "Dear daughter, I feel my end drawing near. I leave you the little house, which will protect you from wind and weather, and my spindle, shuttle, and needle, with which you can earn your bread."
Then she laid her hands on the girl's head, blessed her, and said, "Only preserve the love of God in your heart, and all will go well with you."
Thereupon she closed her eyes, and when she was laid in the earth, the maiden followed the coffin, weeping bitterly, and paid her the last mark of respect.

And now the maiden lived quite alone in the little house, and was industrious, and spun, wove, and sewed, and the blessing of the good old woman was on all that she did.

It seemed as if the flax in the room increased of its own accord, and whenever she wove a piece of cloth or carpet, or had made a shirt, she at once found a buyer who paid her amply for it, so that she was in want of nothing, and even had something to share with others.

About this time, the son of the king was traveling about the country looking for a bride. He was not to choose a poor one, and did not want to have a rich one.

So he said, "She shall be my wife who is the poorest, and at the same time the richest."
When he came to the village where the maiden dwelt, he inquired, as he did wherever he went, who was the richest and also the poorest girl in the place. They first named the richest. The poorest, they said, was the girl who lived in the small house quite at the end of the village.

The rich girl was sitting in all her splendor before the door of her house, and when the prince approached her, she got up, went to meet him, and made him a low curtsy. He looked at her, said nothing, and rode on.

When he came to the house of the poor girl, she was not standing at the door, but sitting in her little room. He stopped his horse, and saw through the window, on which the bright sun was shining, the girl sitting at her spinning-wheel, busily spinning. She looked up, and when she saw that the prince was looking in, she blushed all over her face, let her eyes fall, and went on spinning.
I do not know whether, just at that moment, the thread was quite even, but she went on spinning until the king's son had ridden away again. Then she went to the window, opened it, and said, "It is so warm in this room", and she looked after him as long as she could distinguish the white feathers in his hat.

Then she sat down to work again in her room and went on with her spinning, and a saying which the old woman had often repeated when she was sitting at her work, came into her mind, and she sang these words to herself "Spindle, my spindle, haste, haste thee away, and here to my house bring the wooer, I pray."

And what do you think happened?
The spindle sprang out of her hand in an instant, and out of the door, and when, in her astonishment, she got up and looked after it, she saw that it was dancing out merrily into the open country, and drawing a shining gold thread after it. Before long, it had entirely vanished from her sight.
As she had now no spindle, the girl took the weaver's shuttle in her hand, sat down to her loom, and began to weave. The spindle, however, danced continually onwards, and just as the thread came to an end, reached the prince.
"What do I see," he cried, "the spindle certainly wants to show me the way, turned his horse about, and rode back with the golden thread."

The girl however, was sitting at her work singing, "Shuttle, my shuttle, weave well this day, and guide the wooer to me, I pray."

Immediately the shuttle sprang out of her hand and out by the door. Before the threshold, however, it began to weave a carpet which was more beautiful than the eyes of man had ever yet beheld. Lilies and roses blossomed on both sides of it, and on a golden ground in the center green branches ascended, under which bounded hares and rabbits, stags and deer stretched their heads in between them, brightly-colored birds were sitting in the branches above, they lacked nothing but the gift of song. The shuttle leapt hither and thither, and everything seemed to grow of its own accord.

As the shuttle had run away, the girl sat down to sew. She held the needle in her hand and sang, "Needle, my needle, sharp-pointed and fine, prepare for the wooer this house of mine."
Then the needle leapt out of her fingers, and flew everywhere about the room as quick as lightning. It was just as if invisible spirits were working, it covered tables and benches with green cloth in an instant, and the chairs with velvet, and hung the windows with silken curtains. Hardly had the needle put in the last stitch than the maiden saw through the window the white feathers of the prince, whom the spindle had brought thither by the golden thread.

He alighted, stepped over the carpet into the house, and when he entered the room, there stood the maiden in her poor garments, but she shone out from within them like a rose surrounded by leaves.
"You are the poorest and also the richest", said he to her. "Come with me, you shall be my bride."
She did not speak, but she gave him her hand. Then he gave her a kiss, led her forth, lifted her on to his horse, and took her to the royal castle, where the wedding was solemnized with great rejoicings.

The spindle, shuttle, and needle were preserved in the treasure-chamber, and held in great honor.

written by the Brothers Grimm

ImageChef.com Poetry Blender

I have tried to leave this story as I found it in Household Stories by the Brothers Grimm published in 1886. Only a very few changes have been made in language or description.

There was once a soldier who for many years had served the king faithfully. But when the war came to an end, it was decided that he could serve no longer because of the many wounds which he had received.

The king said to him, "You may return to your home, I need you no longer, and you will not receive any more money, for he only receives wages who renders me service for them."
Then the soldier, who knew no other way to earn a living, went away greatly troubled, and walked the whole day, until in the evening he entered a forest.

When darkness came on, he saw a light, which he went up to, and came to a house wherein lived a witch.
"Do give me one night's lodging, and a little to eat and drink," said he to her, "or I shall starve."

"Oho!'" she answered, "who gives anything to a cast-away soldier? Yet I will be compassionate, and take you in, if you will do what I wish."

"What do you wish?" said the soldier.

"That you should dig all round my garden for me, tomorrow."

The soldier consented, and next day labored with all his strength, but could not finish it by the evening.

"I see well enough," said the witch, "that you can do no more today, but I will keep you yet another night, in payment for which you must tomorrow chop me a load of wood, and chop it small."

The soldier spent the whole day in doing it, and in the evening the witch proposed that he should stay one night more.

"Tomorrow, you shall only do me a very trifling piece of work. Behind my house, there is an old dry well, into which my light has fallen, it burns blue, and never goes out, and you shall bring it up again."

Next day the old woman took him to the well, and let him down in a basket.
He found the blue light, and made her a signal to draw him up again.
She did draw him up, but when he came near the edge, she stretched down her hand and wanted to take the blue light away from him.

"No," said he, perceiving her evil intention, "I will not give you the light until I am standing with both feet upon the ground."

The witch fell into a passion, let him fall again into the well, and went away.
The poor soldier fell without injury on the moist ground, and the blue light went on burning, but of what use was that to him?
He saw very well that he could not escape death.
He sat for a while very sorrowfully, then suddenly he felt in his pocket and found his tobacco pipe, which was still half full.

"This shall be my last pleasure," thought he, pulled it out, lit it at the blue light and began to smoke. When the smoke had circled about the cavern, suddenly a little man stood before him, and said,"Lord, what are your commands?"

"What are my commands?" replied the soldier, quite astonished.

"I must do everything you bid me," said the little man.

"Good," said the soldier, "then in the first place help me out of this well."

The little man took him by the hand, and led him through an underground passage, but he did not forget to take the blue light with him. On the way the little man showed him the treasures which the witch had collected and hidden there, and the soldier took as much gold as he could carry.

When he was above, he said to the little man, "Now go and bind the old witch, and carry her before the judge."
In a short time she came by like the wind, riding on a wild tom-cat and screaming frightfully.
Nor was it long before the little man reappeared.
"It is all done," said he, "and the witch is already hanging on the gallows."
"What further commands has my lord?" inquired the little man.

"At this moment, none," answered the soldier, "You can return home, only be at hand immediately, if I summon you."

"Nothing more is needed than that you should light your pipe at the blue light, and I will appear before you at once."
Thereupon the little man vanished from the soldier's sight.

The soldier returned to the town from which he had come.
He went to the best inn, ordered himself handsome clothes, and then bade the landlord furnish him a room as handsome as possible.
When it was ready and the soldier had taken possession of it, he summoned the little man and said, "I have served the king faithfully, but he has dismissed me, and left me to hunger, and now I want to take my revenge."

"What am I to do?" asked the little man.

"Late at night, when the king's daughter is in bed, bring her here in her sleep, she shall do servant's work for me."

The little man said, "That is an easy thing for me to do, but a very dangerous thing for you, for if it is discovered, you will fare ill."
But the soldier would not be dissuaded and so the little man left.
When twelve o'clock had struck, the door sprang open, and the man carried in the princess.

"Aha! Are you there?" cried the soldier, "get to your work at once! Fetch the broom and sweep the chamber."
When she had done this, he ordered her to come to his chair, and then he stretched out his feet and said, "Pull off my boots."
He then made her pick them up and clean and brighten them.
She did everything he bade her, without opposition, silently and with half-shut eyes.
When the first cock crowed, the little man carried her back to the royal palace, and laid her in her bed.

Next morning when the princess arose she went to her father, and told him that she had had a very strange dream.

"I was carried through the streets with the rapidity of lightning," said she, "and taken into a soldier's room, and I had to wait upon him like a servant, sweep his room, clean his boots, and do all kinds of menial work. It was only a dream, and yet I am just as tired as if I really had done everything."

"The dream may have been true," said the king. "I will give you a piece of advice. Fill your pocket full of peas, and make a small hole in the pocket, and then if you are carried away again, they will fall out and leave a track in the streets."

Unseen by the king, the soldier's little man servant was standing beside him when he said that, and heard all. At night when the sleeping princess was again carried through the streets, some peas certainly did fall out of her pocket, but they made no track, for the crafty little man had just before scattered peas in every street there was. And again the princess was compelled to do servant's work until cock-crow.

Next morning the king sent his people out to seek the track, but it was all in vain, for in every street poor children were sitting, picking up peas, and saying, "It must have rained peas, last night."

"We must think of something else," said the king. "Keep your shoes on when you go to bed, and before you come back from the place where you are taken, hide one of them there, I will soon contrive to find it."

The little man heard this plot, and at night when the soldier again ordered him to bring the princess, revealed it to him, and told him that he knew of no expedient to counteract this stratagem, and that if the shoe were found in the soldier's house it would go badly with him.
"Do what I bid you." replied the soldier, and again this third night the princess was obliged to work like a servant, but before she went away, she hid her shoe under the bed.

Next morning the king had the entire town searched for his daughter's shoe. It was found at the soldier's, and the soldier himself, who at the entreaty of the little man had gone outside the gate, was soon brought back, and thrown into prison.

In his flight he had forgotten the most valuable things he had, the blue light and the gold, and had only one ducat in his pocket. And now loaded with chains, he was standing at the window of his dungeon, when he chanced to see one of his comrades passing by.
The soldier tapped at the pane of glass, and when this man came up, said to him, "Be so kind as to fetch me the small bundle I have left lying in the inn, and I will give you a ducat for doing it."
His comrade ran thither and brought him what he wanted.

As soon as the soldier was alone again, he lighted his pipe and summoned the little man.
"Have no fear," said the latter to his master.
"Go wheresoever they take you, and let them do what they will, only take the blue light with you."

Next day the soldier was tried, and though he had done nothing wicked, the judge condemned him to death.
When he was led forth to die, he begged a last favor of the king.

"What is it?" asked the king.

"That I may smoke one more pipe on my way."

"You may smoke three," answered the king, "but do not imagine that I will spare your life."

Then the soldier pulled out his pipe and lighted it at the blue light, and as soon as a few wreaths of smoke had ascended, the little man was there with a small cudgel in his hand, and said, "What does my lord command?"

"Strike down to earth that false judge there, and his constable, and spare not the king who has treated me so ill."

Then the little man fell on them like lightning, darting this way and that way, and whosoever was so much as touched by his cudgel fell to earth, and did not venture to stir again.

The king was terrified. He threw himself on the soldier's mercy, and merely to be allowed to live at all, gave him his kingdom for his own, and his daughter to wife.

Yes, that is the end of the story.
Part of me wants to add something more to it and a part of me thinks……well, what more is there to say???
What do you think??

I just love all of the different versions of traditional stories that are available. But sometimes it's fun to go back to one of the original stories.
Continuing my bear theme (you do remember my Smokey the Bear blog, right? if not go down two blogs), I thought I would present you with one of the orignal "written" versions of the Three Bears and then show you some of the newer versions.

You'll notice in this version of the Three Bears, published in 1894 by Joseph Jacobs, there is no Goldilocks.
Apparently she was added much later.

Scrapefoot
Once upon a time, there were three Bears who lived in a castle in a
great wood.
One of them was a great big Bear, and one was a middling Bear, and one was a little Bear.
And in the same wood there was a Fox who lived all alone, his name was Scrapefoot.
Scrapefoot was very much afraid of the Bears, but for all that he wanted very much to know all about them.

And one day as he went through the wood he found himself near the Bears' Castle, and he wondered whether he could get into the castle.
He looked all about him everywhere, and he could not see anyone.
So he came up very quietly, till at last he came up to the door of the castle, and he tried whether he could open it.
Yes! the door was not locked, and he opened it just a little way, and put his nose in and looked, and he could not see any one.
So then he opened it a little way farther, and put one paw in, and then another paw, and another and another, and then he was all in the Bears' Castle.
He found he was in a great hall with three chairs in it--one big, one middling, and one little chair; and he thought he would like to sit down and rest and look about him; so he sat down on the big chair.
But he found it so hard and uncomfortable that it made his bones ache, and he jumped down at once and got into the middling chair, and he turned round and round in it, but he couldn't make himself comfortable.
So then he went to the little chair and sat down in it, and it was so soft and warm and comfortable that Scrapefoot was quite happy; but all at once it broke to pieces under him and he couldn't put it together again!

So he got up and began to look about him again, and on one table he saw three saucers, of which one was very big, one was middling, one was quite a little saucer.
Scrapefoot was very thirsty, and he began to drink out of the big saucer. But he only just tasted the milk in the big saucer, which was so sour and so nasty that he would not taste another drop of it.
Then he tried the middling saucer, and he drank a little of that.
He tried two or three mouthfuls, but it was not nice, and then he left it and went to the little saucer, and the milk in the little saucer was so sweet and so nice that he went on drinking it till it was all gone.

Then Scrapefoot thought he would like to go upstairs; and he listened and he could not hear any one.
So upstairs he went, and he found a great room with three beds in it; one was a big bed, and one was a middling bed, and one was a little white bed.
And he climbed up into the big bed, but it was so hard and lumpy and uncomfortable that he jumped down again at once, and tried the middling bed.
That was rather better, but he could not get comfortably in it, so after turning about a little while he got up and went to the little bed; and that was so soft and so warm and so nice that he fell fast asleep at once.

And after a time the Bears came home, and when they got into the hall the big Bear went to his chair and said, "WHO'S BEEN SITTING IN MY CHAIR?"
And the middling Bear said, "WHO'S BEEN SITTING IN MY CHAIR?"
And the little Bear said, "Who's been sitting in my chair and has broken it all to pieces?"

And then they went to have their milk, and the big Bear said, "WHO'S BEEN DRINKING MY MILK?"
And the middling Bear said, "WHO'S BEEN DRINKING MY MILK?"
And the little Bear said, "Who's been drinking my milk and has drunk it all up?"

Then they went upstairs and into the bedroom, and the big Bear said, "WHO'S BEEN SLEEPING IN MY BED?"
And the middling Bear said, "WHO'S BEEN SLEEPING IN MY BED?"
And the little Bear said, "Who's been sleeping in my bed?--and see here he is!"

So then the Bears came and wondered what they should do with him; and the big Bear said, "Let's hang him!" and then the middling Bear said, "Let's drown him!" and then the little Bear said, "Let's throw him out of the window."
And then the Bears took him to the window, and the big Bear took two legs on one side and the middling Bear took two legs on the other side, and they swung him backwards and forwards, backwards and forwards, and out of the window.
Poor Scrapefoot was so frightened, and he thought every bone in his body must be broken.
But he got up and first shook one leg--no, that was not broken; and then another, and that was not broken; and another and another, and then he wagged his tail and found there were no bones broken.
So then he galloped off home as fast as he could go, and never went near the Bears' Castle again.
From More English Fairy Tales by Joseph Jacobs

Great story, huh?? I am sure you noticed that Jacobs story is a wee bit more violent at the end than the present day versions. Most folktales and fairy tales seem to have had much harsher consequences than the versions we read now.
Wonder why? More realistic? The better to get a point across??
Apparently we aren't worried about that these days.
Our endings are usually tame and happy.
Personally, I prefer happy endings even if they are a bit unrealistic.

Moving along, below you will find just a small sampling of the many versions of the Three Bears avialable today.

Alaska's Three Bears by Shelley Gill, illustrated by Shannon Cartwright.2003.
This book, written for elementary school kids, teaches about bear ecology while telling the story of a black bear, a grizzly bear and a polar bear and their search for homes in the Alaskan wilderness.

Beware of the Bears by Alan MacDonald, illustrated by Gwyneth Williamson. 1998.
Angry at what Goldilocks has done to their house, the three bears decide to get back at her by messing up her house, but they make an unfortunate mistake.

A Chair for Baby Bear by Kaye Umansky and Chris Fisher. 1998.
This sequel to "Goldilocks and the Three Bears" follows Papa Bear, Mama Bear, and Baby Bear as they go shopping to replace the chair broken by Goldilocks.




Dusty Locks and the Three Bears by Susan Lowell, illustrated by Randy Cecil. 2001.
Way out West live three bears who like to keep their cabin neat and tidy. But one day while they're out for a walk, a dirty little girl named Dusty Locks barges in and helps herself to their supper of beans. The big bear's beans are so full of chile peppers that she burns her mouth. The middle bear's beans don't even have any salt. But the baby cub's beans are just right, so Dusty Locks gobbles them all up. When the bears come home to find their nice, neat house looking like it's been hit by a whirlwind, they get riled -- and Dusty runs home so fast the dust doesn't settle for a week.

Goldie and the Three Bears by Diane Stanley. 2003.
In this story, loosely based on that of Goldilocks, Goldie, who has yet to find a friend to "love with all her heart," makes an unplanned visit to the house of some bears.

Goldilocks and the Three Bears by Caralyn Buehner & Mark Buehner. 2007.
In this variation on the classic folktale, a rhyming, rope-skipping, little girl rudely helps herself to the belongings of a genteel family of bears.

Goldilocks and the Three Bears: A Split-Page Surprise Book by Harriet Ziefert. 1995.
Will the three bears discover the girl who's been eating their porridge, sitting in their chairs, and sleeping in their beds? Turn the top, then the bottom of each ingeniously split page to find out!

Leola and the Honey Bears: An African-American Retelling of Goldilocks and the Three Bears by Melodye Benson Rosales. 1998.
With a large helping of rural southern flavor, this African-American retelling of the tale follows the adventures of Leola as she wanders away from her Grandmama's cottage. Secretly followed by a kindly blackbird, Leola encounters frightening Ol' Mister Weasel, surprised the gentle Honeybear family, and learns an important lesson about strangers.

Goldilocks and the Three Hares by Heidi Petach. 1995.
When Mama burns the oatmeal, the Hare family heads out to eat. Then along comes Goldilocks and the puns and fun begin, commented upon by the zany mice who live downstairs and who carry on their own hilarious story at the same time.

Goldilocks and the Three Martians by Stu Smith, illustrated by Michael Garland. 2004.
Goldilocks is fed up with chores and homework. Can't a girl have any fun? So she builds a spaceship and blasts off for the adventure of her life. After touring all the planets (and finding something wrong with each of them), she finally lands on Mars and is soon ringing the doorbell of a Martian house. You guessed it, no one's home, but some tasty alien stew is cooling on the table. After a little nap and a narrow escape from the returned occupants, Goldilocks heads for Earth, which suddenly feels . . . just right after all.
With a terrific rhyming text that's great fun for out-loud reading, this picture book offers a wacky twist on an old favorite.

Goldilocks Returns by Lisa Campbell Ernst. 2000.
Fifty years after Goldilocks first met the three bears, she returns to fix up their cottage and soothe her guilty conscience.






Jolie Blonde and the Three Heberts: A Cajun Twist to an Old Tale by Sheila Hebert Collins, illustrated by Patrick Soper. 1999.
In this version of the story, Goldilocks is called Jolie Blonde (pretty blonde), and the Three Bears are actually three humans the Heberts (pronounced AY-bair)who live on the bayou. Mama Hebert makes gumbo that is left to cool while the family goes for a pirogue (boat) ride, with the predictable results. The text is sprinkled with Cajun expressions that are explained at the bottom of each page. The appended gumbo recipe is easy enough for any jolie blonde. This book will work well as a one-on-one lesson on Cajun-French words or as a group read-aloud sharing of a unique bit of culture.

Santa and the Three Bears by Dominic Catalano. 2000.
Three bears have a lot of explaining to do when they are caught sleeping in Santa's house.

Somebody and the Three Blairs by Marilyn Tolhurst, illustrated by Simone Abel. 1990.
In a reversal of the Goldilocks story, a bear explores the home of the three Blairs while they are out.

The Three Bears' Christmas by Kathy Duval, illustrated by Paul Meisel.2005.
After taking a walk on Christmas Eve while their freshly baked gingerbread cools, Papa, Mama, and Baby Bear arrive home to encounter another "trespasser," who does not have golden hair but wears a red suit and leaves presents.

The Three Bears' Halloween by Kathy Duval, illustrated by Paul Meisel.2007.
Is it a witch or a blonde little girl hiding in the bushes of the spooky house when the three bears go trick or treating?




The Three Snow Bears by Jan Brett. 2007.
Retells the story of Goldilocks, set in an Inuit village and featuring a family of polar bears.





Yours Truly, Goldilocks by Alma Flor Ada, illustrated byLeslie Tryon. 1998.
This lovely book tells its story through an exchange of letters between familiar characters such as Goldilocks, the Three Little Pigs, Peter Rabbit, Little Red Riding Hood, Baby Bear and, of course, the Big Bad Wolf (aka Fer O'Cious). The author chronicles the attempt of the three little pigs to plan a housewarming party. Meanwhile the villains from the previous title (Dear Peter Rabbit) are still up to no good, spying on the residents of the forest and planning an attack on the homeward-bound guests. Fortunately, the surprise is on them because the wolves haven't counted on Baby Bear's mother and her swift reflexes and the two wolves lose both their pride and their fur. This is fairy-tale fun at its best. Following these well-loved characters on a new adventure tickles the imagination with fanciful "what ifs."

Who's Been Eating My Porridge? by M. Christina Butler, illustrated by Daniel Howarth. 2004.
When Little Bear refuses to eat his porridge in the morning, his parents tell him they will leave it in the woods for the mysterious Old Scary Bear.

Once upon a time when pigs spoke rhyme
And monkeys chewed tobacco,
And hens took snuff to make them tough,
And ducks went quack, quack, quack, O!

This is the opening for the Three Little Pigs as it appeared in the book ENGLISH FAIRY TALES written by JOSEPH JACOBS in 1890. The rest of the original story is at the end of this blog....NO you can not skip ahead!! This is interesting stuff. Trust me!

I know that I have already done a blog on the "Three Little Pigs" but I was reminded that there are other versions of this story.

It's lots of fun to introduce children to all of the variations of this story and then have them think of their own variation.
And as many variations as there are, I have found that children can always find something new to do with almost any story.
You can have the kids brainstorm new ideas and a storyline.
They can then, either individually or as a group, make a storyboard or storymap of their new Three Little Pigs.

Here are some of the many books based on the story of the Three Little Pigs:

The Three Little Cajun Pigs By Berthe Amoss

Money Mama & the Three Little Pigs by Lori Mackey, Nicole Lomonaco






The True Story of the 3 Little Pigs by Jon Scieszka, A. Wolf, Lane Smith

Alaska's Three Pigs By Arlene Laverde
Three Little Wolves and the Big Bad Pig by Eugene Trivizas






The Fourth Little Pig (Ready Set Read)by Teresa Celsi












The Three Little Javelinas by Susan Lowell




Three Little Hawaiian Pigs and the Magic Shark by Donivee Laird
Yo, Hungry Wolf!: A Nursery Rap By David Vozar








The Three Little Rigs By David Gordon


The Three Little Fish and the Big Bad Shark By Will Grace, Ken Geist, Julia Gorton





As promised here is the story of Three Little Pigs as it appeared in the book ENGLISH FAIRY TALES written by JOSEPH JACOBS in 1890.

THE STORY OF THE THREE LITTLE PIGS

Once upon a time when pigs spoke rhyme
And monkeys chewed tobacco,
And hens took snuff to make them tough,
And ducks went quack, quack, quack, O!

There was an old sow with three little pigs, and as she had not enough to keep them, she sent them out to seek their fortune.
The first that went off met a man with a bundle of straw, and said to him:

"Please, man, give me that straw to build me a house."

Which the man did, and the little pig built a house with it.
Presently came along a wolf, and knocked at the door, and said:

"Little pig, little pig, let me come in."

To which the pig answered:

"No, no, by the hair of my chiny chin chin."

The wolf then answered to that:

"Then I'll huff, and I'll puff, and I'll blow your house in."

So he huffed, and he puffed, and he blew his house in, and ate up the little pig.

The second little pig met a man with a bundle of furze, and said:

"Please, man, give me that furze to build a house."

Which the man did, and the pig built his house. Then along came the wolf, and said:

"Little pig, little pig, let me come in."

"No, no, by the hair of my chiny chin chin."

"Then I'll puff, and I'll huff, and I'll blow your house in."

So he huffed, and he puffed, and he puffed, and he huffed, and at last he blew the house down, and he ate up the little pig.

The third little pig met a man with a load of bricks, and said:

"Please, man, give me those bricks to build a house with."

So the man gave him the bricks, and he built his house with them.
So the wolf came, as he did to the other little pigs, and said:

"Little pig, little pig, let me come in."

"No, no, by the hair of my chiny chin chin."

"Then I'll huff, and I'll puff, and I'll blow your house in."

Well, he huffed, and he puffed, and he huffed and he puffed, and he puffed and huffed; but he could not get the house down.
When he found that he could not, with all his huffing and puffing, blow the house down, he said:

"Little pig, I know where there is a nice field of turnips."

"Where?" said the little pig.

"Oh, in Mr. Smith's Home-field, and if you will be ready tomorrow
morning I will call for you, and we will go together, and get some for dinner."

"Very well," said the little pig, "I will be ready. What time do you mean to go?"

"Oh, at six o'clock."

Well, the little pig got up at five, and got the turnips before the wolf came (which he did about six) and who said:

"Little Pig, are you ready?"

The little pig said: "Ready! I have been and come back again, and got a nice potful for dinner."

The wolf felt very angry at this, but thought that he would be up to
the little pig somehow or other, so he said:

"Little pig, I know where there is a nice apple-tree."

"Where?" said the pig.

"Down at Merry-garden," replied the wolf, "and if you will not deceive me I will come for you, at five o'clock tomorrow and get some apples."

Well, the little pig bustled up the next morning at four o'clock, and
went off for the apples, hoping to get back before the wolf came; but
he had further to go, and had to climb the tree, so that just as he was coming down from it, he saw the wolf coming, which, as you may suppose, frightened him very much.
When the wolf came up he said:

"Little pig, what! are you here before me? Are they nice apples?"

"Yes, very," said the little pig. "I will throw you down one."

And he threw it so far, that, while the wolf was gone to pick it up,
the little pig jumped down and ran home.
The next day the wolf came again, and said to the little pig:

"Little pig, there is a fair at Shanklin this afternoon, will you go?"

"Oh yes," said the pig, "I will go; what time shall you be ready?"

"At three," said the wolf. So the little pig went off before the time
as usual, and got to the fair, and bought a butter-churn, which he was going home with, when he saw the wolf coming.
Then he could not tell what to do.
So he got into the churn to hide, and by so doing turned it round, and it rolled down the hill with the pig in it, which frightened the wolf so much, that he ran home without going to the fair.
He went to the little pig's house, and told him how frightened he had been by a great round thing which came down the hill past him.
Then the little pig said:

"Hah, I frightened you, then.
I had been to the fair and bought a butter-churn, and when I saw you, I got into it, and rolled down the hill."

Then the wolf was very angry indeed, and declared he would eat up the little pig, and that he would get down the chimney after him.
When the little pig saw what he was about, he hung on the pot full of water, and made up a blazing fire, and, just as the wolf was coming down, took off the cover, and in fell the wolf; so the little pig puton the cover again in an instant, boiled him up, and ate him for supper, and lived happy ever afterwards.

"The Twa Sisters" is a murder ballad that tells the story of a younger drowned by her older sister because of jealousy.
The song is said to have first appeared on a broadside in 1656 as "The Miller and the King's Daughter." There are at least 21 English variants of "The Twa Sisters" under numerous names including "Minnorie" or "Binnorie", "The Cruel Sister", "The Wind and Rain", "Two Sisters", and the "Bonnie Bows of London".

"Twa Sisters" can also be found in fairytale form under a number of names.
I believe the best known version maybe the Brothers Grimm's "The Singing Bones" (which uses 2 or 3 brothers instead of sisters) but similar stories can also be found under the names The Griffin (Italy),The Dead Girl's Bone (Switzerland), The Little Bone (Switzerland), Binnorie (England), The Silver Plate and the Transparent Apple. (Russia), The Magic Fiddle (India) and The Twin Brothers (Nigeria).

Here is a lovely version of "The Cruel Sister".


Another very nice version of The Twa Sisters is available on youtube (Drat it! I could not embed it here).

Binnorie

Once upon a time there were two king's daughters who lived in a bower near the bonny mill dams of Binnorie. And Sir William came wooing the eldest and won her love, and plighted troth with glove and with ring. But after a time he looked upon the youngest, with her cherry cheeks and golden hair, and his love went out to her until he cared no longer for the eldest one. So she hated her sister for taking away Sir William's love, and day by day her hate grew and grew and she plotted and she planned how to get rid of her.
So one fine morning, fair and clear, she said to her sister, "Let us go and see our father's boats come in at the bonny mill stream of Binnorie." So they went there hand in hand. And when they came to the river's bank the youngest got upon a stone to watch for the beaching of the boats. And her sister, coming behind her, caught her round the waist and dashed her into the rushing mill stream of Binnorie.

"Oh sister, sister, reach me your hand!" she cried, as she floated away, "and you shall have half of all I've got or shall get."

"No, sister, I'll reach you no hand of mine, for I am the heir to all your land. Shame on me if I touch her hand that has come 'twixt me and my own heart's love."

"Oh sister, oh sister, then reach me your glove!" she cried, as she floated further away, "and you shall have your William again."

"Sink on," cried the cruel princess, "no hand or glove of mine you'll touch. Sweet William will be all mine when you are sunk beneath the bonny mill stream of Binnorie." And she turned and went home to the king's castle.

And the princess floated down the mill stream, sometimes swimming and sometimes sinking, until she came near the mill. Now the miller's daughter was cooking that day, and needed water for her cooking. And as she went to draw it from the stream, she saw something floating towards the mill dam, and she called out, "Father! father! draw your dam. There's something white -- a merrymaid or a milk white swan -- coming down the stream." So the miller hastened to the dam and stopped the heavy cruel mill wheels. And then they took out the princess and laid her on the bank.

Fair and beautiful she looked as she lay there. In her golden hair were pearls and precious stones; you could not see her waist for her golden girdle, and the golden fringe of her white dress came down over her lily feet. But she was drowned, drowned!

And as she lay there in her beauty a famous harper passed by the mill dam of Binnorie, and saw her sweet pale face. And though he traveled on far away he never forgot that face, and after many days he came back to the bonny mill stream of Binnorie. But then all he could find of her where they had put her to rest were her bones and her golden hair. So he made a harp out of her breast bone and her hair, and traveled on up the hill from the mill dam of Binnorie, until he came to the castle of the king her father.

That night they were all gathered in the castle hall to hear the great harper: king and queen, their daughter and son, Sir William, and all their court. And first the harper sang to his old harp, making them joy and be glad, or sorrow and weep just as he liked. But while he sang he put the harp he had made that day on a stone in the hall. And presently it began to sing by itself, low and clear, and the harper stopped and all were hushed.

And this was what the harp sung:

Oh yonder sits my father, the king,
Binnorie, oh Binnorie;
And yonder sits my mother, the queen;
By the bony mill dams o' Binnorie.
And yonder stands my brother Hugh,
Binnorie, oh Binnorie;
And by him, my William, false and true;
By the bonny mill dams o' Binnorie.

Then they all wondered, and the harper told them how he had seen the princess lying drowned on the bank near the bonny mill dams o' Binnorie, and how he had afterwards made this harp out of her hair and breast bone. Just then the harp began singing again, and this was what it sang out loud and clear:
And there sits my sister who drownèd me
By the bonny mill dams o' Binnorie.
And the harp snapped and broke, and never sang more.

Source: Joseph Jacobs, English Fairy Tales

The Twa Sisters

There was twa sisters in a bowr,
Edinburgh, Edinburgh
There was twa sisters in a bowr,
Stirling for ay
There was twa sisters in a bowr,
There came a knight to be their wooer.

He courted the eldest wi glove an ring,
But he lovd the youngest above a' thing.

He courted the eldest wi brotch an knife,
But lovd the youngest as his life.

The eldest she was vexed sair,
An much envi'd her sister fair.

Into her bowr she could not rest,
Wi grief an spite she almost brast.

Upon a morning fair and clear,
She cried upon her sister dear:

"O sister, come to yon sea stran,
An see our father's ship come to lan."

She's taen her by the milk-white han,
An led her down to yon sea stran.

The youngest stood upon a stane,
The eldest came and threw her in.

She tooke her by the middle sma,
And dashd her bonny back to the jaw.

"O sister, sister, tak my han,
An Ise mack you heir to a' my lan."

"O sister, sister, tak my middle,
An yes get my goud and my gouden girdle."

"O sister, sister, save my life,
An I swear Ise never be nae man's wife."

"Foul fa the han that I should tacke,
It twin'd me and my wardles make."

"Your cherry cheeks an yallow hair,
Gars me gae maiden for evermair."

Sometimes she sank, and sometimes she swam,
Till she came down yon bonny mill-dam.

O out it came the millers son,
An saw the fair maid swimmin' in.

"O Father, father, draw your dam,
Here's either a mermaid or a swan."

The miller quickly drew the dam,
An there he found a drownd woman.

You couldna see her yallow hair,
For gold and pearle that were so rare.

An by there came a harper fine,
That harped to the king at dine.

When he did look that lady upon,
He sighd and made a heavy moan.

He's taen three locks o her yallow hair,
An wi them strung his harp sae fair.

The first tune he did play and sing,
Was, "Farewell to my father the king."

The nextin tune that he playd syne,
Was, "Farewell to my mother the queen."

The lasten tune that he playd then,
Was, "wae to my sister, Fair Ellen."

The Twa Sisters
Melody - Seq. by John Renfro Davis
Traditional Ballad, Child Ballad #10

There liv'd twa sisters in a bower,
Hey Edinbruch, how Edinbruch.
There liv'd twa sisters in a bower,
Stirling for aye:
The youngest o' them, O, she was a flower!
Bonny Sanct Johnstonne that stands upon Tay.

2. There came a squire frae the west,
Hey Edinbruch, how Edinbruch.
There cam a squire frae the west,
Stirling for aye:
He lo'ed them baith, but the youngest best,
Bonny Sanct Johnstonne that stands upon Tay.

3. He gied the eldest a gay gold ring,
Hey Edinbruch, how Edinbruch.
He gied the eldest a gay gold ring,
Stirling for aye:
But he lo'ed the youngest aboon a' thing,
Bonny Sanct Johnstonne that stands upon Tay.

4. Oh sister, sister, will ye go to the sea?
Hey Edinbruch, how Edinbruch.
Oh sister, sister, will ye go to the sea?
Stirling for aye:
Our father's ships sail bonnilie,
Bonny Sanct Johnstonne that stands upon Tay.

5. The youngest sat down upon a stane,
Hey Edinbruch, how Edinbruch.
The youngest sat down upon a stane,
Stirling for aye:
The eldest shot the youngest in,
Bonny Sanct Johnstonne that stands upon Tay.

6. Oh sister, sister, lend me your hand,
Hey Edinbruch, how Edinbruch.
Oh, sister, sister, lend me your hand,
Stirling for aye:
And you shall hae my gouden fan,
Bonny Sanct Johnstonne that stands upon Tay.

7. Oh, sister, sister, save my life,
Hey Edinbruch, how Edinbruch.
Oh sister, sister, save my life,
Stirling for aye:
And ye shall be the squire's wife,
Bonny Sweet Johnstonne that stands upon Tay.

8. First she sank, and then she swam,
Hey Edinbruch, how Edinbruch.
First she sank, and then she swam,
Stirling for aye:
Until she cam to Tweed mill dam,
Bonny Sanct Johnstonne that stands upon Tay.

9. The millar's daughter was baking bread,
Hey Edinbruch, how Edinbruch.
The millar's daughter was baking bread,
Stirling for aye:
She went for water, as she had need,
Bonny Sanct Johnstonne that stands upon Tay.

10. Oh father, father, in our mill dam,
Hey Edinbruch, how Edinbruch,
Oh father, father, in our mill dam,
Stirling for aye:
There's either a lady, or a milk-white swan,
Bonny Sanct Johnstonne that stands upon Tay.

11. They could nae see her fingers small,
Hey Edinbruch, how Edinbruch.
They could nae see her fingers small,
Stirling for aye:
Wi' diamond rings they were cover'd all,
Bonny Sanct Johnstonne that stands upon Tay.

12. They could nae see her yellow hair,
Hey Edinbruch, how Edinbruch.
They could nae see her yellow hair,
Stirling for aye:
Sae mony knots and platts war there,
Bonny Sanct Johnstonne that stands upon Tay.

13. Bye there cam a fiddler fair,
Hey Edinbruch, how Edinbruch.
Bye there cam a fiddler fair,
Stirling for aye:
And he's ta'en three tails o' her yellow hair,
Bonny Sanct Johnstonne that stands upon Tay.



--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
From Sharpe's Ballad Book, No. X., p. 30. A version of "Binnorie." The ballad here ends abruptly; doubtless the fiddler made fiddle-strings of the lady's hair, and a fiddle of her breast-bone, while the instrument probably revealed the cruelty of the sister. Other extant versions are composite or interpolated, so this fragment (Sharpe's) has been preferred in this place.
Thi ballad first appeared on a broadside in 1656 as The Miller and the King's Daughter.

from Glasgow Guide: Glasgow Songs & Scottish Music


Net Resource:
The Twa Sisters
Bartleby.com
The Contemplator
Contemplator Variants of Child Ballad
Pitt.edu_The Singing Bones

I just stumbled across this site and thought others might find it fun and interesting.....Fairytale Generator

Basically you pick situations from a list and the site "generates" a short, very short, fairytale for you.
Enjoy!