PREFACE
This Tale is rendered, a little freely, from
_Trente-six Rencontres de Jean du Gogue_, in _Contes d'un Buveur de Biere_,
par Charles Deulin. (Sixieme Edition. Paris: Dentu. 1873.)
The late M.
Deulin told with much humour, and probably with but little alteration from
oral tradition, the popular tales of his native province. The narrative here
translated has points in common with a Tongan legend, with several ancient
French _fabliaux_, with a Zulu story in Bishop Callaway's collection, and
with Grimm's _Golden Goose_.
TO MISTRESS DOROTHEA THORPE
IKE
the Sultan in the _Arabian Nights_--and, sure, you are no less despotic--you
have sometimes commanded me to 'tell you a story.'It has been my privilege to
obey; but, alas! when my toil was ended, with a stretch of absolute authority
you have bidden me 'tell you another.'Truly, Madam, the _Ocean of the Streams
of Story_, whereof the Hindoos speak, will speedily be drained dry by your
Slave, who now presents you with this little Tale, which he has conveyed from
French Flanders. If it amuses your leisure as much to read, as it has
diverted mine to translate it, I shall have that enjoyment which
attends successful enterprise, and I remain,
Madam,
Yours very
humbly to command
A. Z.
MADAM,
GOLDEN
GOOSE
CHAPTER I.
LONG TIME AGO there lived in French
Flanders, at a village called Saint Saulve, Valenciennes way, a little
cow-boy named Johnny Nut He had no father and no mother, and they called him
Johnny Nut because he was found one fine morning under a walnut-tree. Silly
Billy was another name he had, for he was just as great an innocent as a calf
before it is weaned.
Now, never in his living days had Johnny Nut
dined on anything better than potatoes, and the one thing he wanted in the
world was to taste roast goose.
Now, about a dozen miles off, Conde
way, there is a village where the geese are so grand that all the world talks
of nothing but the Hergnies geese.
'When I grow up,' said Johnny,
'I'll go to Hergnies and eat goose.' So, at long and at last, one autumn
evening he left the cows in the lurch, and off he went, without beat of
drum.
Now, whether he came back as poor as he started, and what a great
love of roast goose brought Silly Billy to, that's what we are going to
tell you!
So Johnny Nut followed his nose, and asked his way, and at
nightfall he reached the village of Escau-bridge.
'You can't show me
the way to Hergnies, mother?' cried Johnny to the farmer's wife, who was just
sitting down to supper.
'That I can, my son, but you are out
late.
'Are you in such a hurry?'
'Oh, mother, who is in a hurry if
not me? These ten years I've been dying to taste roast goose, so don't you
see there's no time to waste.'
The farmer's wife stared at him with all
her eyes.
'What do they call you?' says she.
'Silly Billy,'says
he.
'Oh, _don't I see_. Yes, I see,'said the woman, laughing to his
very face. 'Listen, my lad! You are big, and strong, and you seem honest.
Now Jim, our man, is off on the King's wars. Will you take his
place?'
'Will you let me taste roast goose?'
'On Sunday, as sure
as sure, you shall have your fill of goose; I have to send some one to
Hergnies, to my cousin's, to-morrow. You shall start, at peep of day, and
bring me a good fat goose. We'll dine off him when we come back from the fair
at the next town. Does that suit you, my son?'
'Mother, it's just the
thing for me.'
'Then come to supper.'
And to supper went Johnny
Nut, with such an appetite that he scarcely had time to say
grace.
CHAPTER II.
EXT day was a Saturday, and the
farmer's wife went to waken Johnny in the stable-loft.
'Come, come, up
with you!' says she, shaking him. 'Don't you hear the cock crowing?' So she
gave him a big bowl of coffee, and _such_ a chunk of bread; and showed him
the way, and sent him off, saying, 'Mind you ask for my cousin's mill, and
bring me the goose, and seven bushels of flour, and a pint of seed
corn.' 'Seven bushels, and one pint,' 'Seven bushels, and one pint'--for,
not being very clever, he was afraid he might forget.
As he went on
saying this, he met a farmer, who was counting up how much his field should
bring him in.
'_Seven_ bushels, indeed!' said the farmer. 'Let a hundred
come!'
Now this puzzled Johnny Silly Billy, for he had never room in his
head for more than one idea at a time; so he went on his way,
repeating,
'Let a hundred come! let a hundred come!'
Well, as
Johnny crossed a wood, there sat a shepherd, as red as scarlet, and as proud
as a peacock that has laid an egg; and all because his dog had just killed a
wolf that was after the lambs.
'Let a hundred of them come! let a hundred
of them come!' sang out Johnny Nut.
'What do you mean, you fool?' says
the shepherd, 'with your _Let a hundred them come!_ A hundred, indeed! Rather
say, _There's another caught and done for!_' '_There's another caught and
done for!_'said Johnny Nut, as he went on his way.
CHAPTER
III. OW, as Johnny strutted along, he heard jolly music and wedding
bells, and saw a multitude of people.
It was a wedding party, outside
a tavern; and the fiddlers were fiddling, and everybody
dancing.
Johnny Nut went through the middle of them all,
shouting:--
'_There's another caught and done for!_'
'Caught and
done for! Meaning _me_!' says the gay bridegroom; and he tucked up his
shirtsleeves to give Johnny one in the eye. But the bridesmaid, who did not
want a quarrel, gave Johnny a push, and said to him--
'Idiot, say
rather, "Let everybody follow a good example."' It was all one to Johnny, and
off he went, shouting--
'Let every one follow this good
example!'
So he left the village, and he went, and went and better went,
till he came to a house on fire.
The policeman had caught a poor
tramp, whom he charged with burning the house.
'_Let everyone follow
this good example_!' shouted Johnny, never thinking of anything but roast
goose.
'What's that you say, you vagabond! You incite the populace to
arson and fire-raising!' cries the policeman, who was by way of being a
great lawyer. Johnny trembled like an aspen-leaf.
'Say, "Heaven
help you to put the fire out,"' whispered one of the firemen; and Johnny said
so, and off he went, the old way, crying--
'_Heaven help you to put the
fire out!_'
Now he passed a blacksmith's forge, and that blacksmith was
as cross as two sticks, for he had been blowing the bellows for three hours,
and could not make the fire burn.
Well, just when a little tiny blue
flame burst forth, as little as a pussycat's tongue, what did the blacksmith
hear but--
'_Heaven put the fire out!_' Round he turned, pitched his
hammer at Johnny, and knocked him down flat on the king's high
way.
CHAPTER IV.
OHNNY was not dead; Fortune had other
adventures in store for Johnny. A farmer came out with his men, and carried
him into the house, where he soon came to his senses. It was not very much in
that way he had to come to; but if Johnny had not many brains, he had an
extraordinarily thick skull. The blow with the hammer would have killed
another man, but it only made a bump on the head of our Johnny.
The
farmer asked him where he came from and what he wanted.
'I'm going to
Hergnies, to eat roast goose,' said Johnny. 'Why, you are twelve miles from
Hergnies,' said the farmer; and he gave Johnny a sheaf of corn, and sent him
on his road.
Well, Johnny lost himself again, and sat down against a wall
and lunched off part of his hunch of bread.
Then, as he was tired, he
fell asleep, and a chicken came and ate all the grains of corn out of his
sheaf. Then Johnny woke, and when he found he had nothing left of his sheaf
but straw he fell a-crying.
[Illustration: 6046]
Now, the farmer
there was a good-natured man, and, to console Johnny, he made him a present
of the fowl, and off he went. About four in the afternoon Johnny was hungry
again, and sat down to finish his hunch of bread with his chicken beside
him.
Up came a clumsy great cow, and trod on the chicken and crushed it
flat.
Johnny set off sobbing again. 'Never no luck,' says he. 'They gave
me a sheaf, and a chicken ate it. They gave me a chicken, and a cow
crushed it Boo-hoo!'
[9048]
'Don't boo-hoo,' says the Lord of
the Manor, who came by with his gun on his shoulder and his game-bag on his
back. 'Don't boo-hoo! take the cow.'
'Thank you kindly, your noble
worship,' says Johnny, as merry as may be, and he and the cow jogged along
till it grew dark. At last Johnny came to another farm, and there the farmer
took in him and his cow.
Now, this farmer had a big pretty maid, as
strong as a man, and he bade her milk Johnny's cow. But, as she milked, the
cow switched its tail in her eyes and made her see quite an
illumination. The maid was an angry maid. She picked up a pitchfork and threw
it at the cow, and the poor beast fell down dead!
Then Johnny began to
cry again, and I don't wonder at it.
'Never no luck,' says he. 'They gave
me a sheaf, and a chicken ate it; they gave me a chicken, and a cow crushed
it; they gave me a cow, and the maid killed it. Boo-hoo!'
'Oh bother!
take the maid and don't blubber,' said the farmer. He didn't like to keep a
girl in the house who threw pitchforks about when she lost her
temper.
Johnny did not wait to be asked twice. He took the maid, tied her
hands and feet, put her in a sack, heaved her on to his back, and away
went Johnny.
'When I do get to Hergnies,' said he to himself, 'I'll
marry the maid, and we'll have roast goose at the wedding supper,' for his
intentions were strictly honourable.
But the further he went the more
Johnny didn't find the way; and at last, as the maid was pretty heavy, he set
her down by a tavern door and went in and asked for a pot of
beer.
CHAPTER V. OW, in the tavern were Tune, the tailor, with a
coat he had made for a customer, and Nanasse, and Polydore, and Rumble his
dog, four of the wildest wags in that country-side.
Tune went out of
the tavern to see what kind of night it was, and there was the sack and
something in it that moved. So he opened the sack, and what should he find
but a pretty tall maid, trussed like a fowl.
[Illustration:
0056]
Well, he let her out and she told him all about it, and, as she was
not dying to marry our Johnny, off she ran to her own village as hard as
she could go.
'What am I to fill the sack with?' thought Tune. 'By
George, I'll put in Polydore's yellow dog, Rumble.'
So he whistled to
Rumble and put him in the sack.
By this time Johnny had finished his ale,
and he came out, hoisted the sack on his shoulder, and marched away without
asking questions. Tune followed at a little distance, and, as Rumble knew a
friend was there, why, he entered into the fun and said never a
bark.
At last Johnny reached Hergnies, and where should he go to but to
the parson's, of course, to get married! Then it occurred to him that
he had never asked the maid if she would have him! He put down the sack
and opened it.
'I say, maid,' quoth he, 'shall us get married, us
two?'
'G-r-r-r-r-r-r!' says the maid.
Johnny, in a fright, let go
his hold of the cord, the sack fell open, out jumped Rumble, and flew at his
throat.
Johnny sprang into a willow-tree and climbed up it, but, lo and
behold! the tree was rotten, and down came tree and Johnny and all on the
back of Rumble! Now, Rumble was expecting nothing of that sort, and, with
one wild yowl, he flew away like the wind, and never stopped till the
town gates of Conde were closed behind him!
CHAPTER
VI.
HEN once the voice of Rumble was lost in the distance, Johnny
climbed out of the tree and found that none of his bones were
broken.
All of a sudden in the hollow of the tree trunk he saw something
shining like a will o' the wisp.
He put in his hands and pulled out A
Goose with Golden Feathers!
'Here's luck at last,' says Johnny, 'I've
lost a maid and found a golden goose! I'll have it roasted this very night,'
and off he went to the best inn in the village.
Now the inn was full
of people going to the fair on St. Calixtus's day, which was a great
festival.
However, Johnny, being but a village idiot, had never heard
anything about all that.
Up he comes and goes to the landlord, who
didn't know where to turn, he had so many customers, all going to the
fair.
'Cook my goose!' says Johnny, as bold as brass.
'Oh, you go
to--Jerusalem,' says the landlord, 'we don't cook _gold geese here_, not
to-day, we don't.' 'Well, if you won't be obliging and cook my goose,' says
Johnny Nut, 'why, I'll give it to Saint Calixtus. A pretty poor saint he'll
be if he does not give me a goose fit to put on the spit in exchange for my
goose of gold!'
So he got supper somehow, and went with his goose to
sleep in the stable.
CHAPTER VII.
HE landlord of the inn
had three fair daughters, all as curious as their mother Eve. All night long
they turned and tossed in their beds, thinking about the golden goose and
longing to see it.
As soon as the first cock crew, up gets the oldest
daughter.
'It is so hot I really can't sleep,' said she, and went on
tip-toe to the stable, as quiet as pussy, for fear of waking
Johnny.
In the moonlight the golden goose was shining like a
star.
'I'll take one of the pretty feathers,' said the girl, and put out
her hand to touch it But she could not pluck the feather and she could
not pull her hand away!
When the second cock crew, up got the second
daughter.
'It is far too hot to sleep,' said she, and she ran downstairs
to her sister. But as soon as she had touched her _she_ could not move a
step from the place! Then the third cock crew, and up got the youngest
daughter, and ran to the stable after her sisters.
'Take care! don't
come here!' they cried, but she did not understand, and she
thought--
'Why, if they are there, I can go too!'
But as soon as
she touched her sisters, there she was, as fast as could be to the golden
goose!
A quarter of an hour later Johnny wakened, and stretched himself,
and shook some of the straw out of his hair, and then took his goose
under his arm, and off he went, never noticing the girls, whom he had
_not_ left behind him.
They tried to stop him, but Johnny thought they
wanted to rob him of his goose, and he ran, and they ran, and they all ran as
fast as their legs would carry them.
When they were out of the
village, the girls were also out of breath, and they entreated Johnny to
stop. So he said he would stop if they would show him the right road, and the
sun was up by the time they reached the next village.
CHAPTER
VIII.
[Illustration: 9078]
UST at that very moment, who should
come by who should come by but the Vicar of Conde, with his two Curates, the
Churchwardens, the Beadle himself, the man that played the fiddle, the man
that played the cornet, and all the wicked little choirboys.
They were
all marching off to sing the Mass on St. Calixtus's day.
The Vicar at
that time was a stout clergyman, as big as a barrel, but he was a very holy
man, and very severe about good and modest behaviour.
Naturally, when he
saw the landlord's daughters all strutting away behind our Johnny, he was
Shocked!
'Are you not ashamed of yourselves,' he cried out, 'great lasses
like you, to run about the country after a lad?'
So he plucked the
youngest girl by the sleeve to stop her, but, behold! no sooner had he
touched her than he could not leave hold, and _he_ had to march after the
golden goose!
[Illustration: 0080]
'Oh, sir, oh, sir!' cried the
Beadle (who was a long, thin-legged man, like a heron), and he ran up, caught
hold of the Vicar by his gown, and there he stuck.
The Vicar cried for
help to the rest of his company, so first the Curates, then the Organist,
then the man with the violin, then the cornet-player, and, lastly, all the
wicked little choir-boys, rushed to hold the Vicar back, but they were all
caught, and had all to run after Johnny, while Johnny just followed his
goose!
Pilgrims came to do him honour from all the country round, and, as
Saint Calixtus was famous for curing lame people, they made a very
singular procession.
The maimed and the halt and the blind were there,
humpbacks by the dozen, cripples by the score, men with wooden legs, men with
iron hooks instead of hands, men with wry necks--in short, they were a
funny spectacle.
They would not have been funny, but very pitiful, if
they had really been lame and blind, but the truth is that they were all
persons whom the good Saint had cured, and now they were only making believe,
for one day in the year, to suffer from their old complaints. But, to tell
the truth, they looked so odd that the images of the other Saints in
the chapel were set, on that day, with their faces to the wall, for
fear they should break out laughing.
[Illustration: 9088]
When
the High Mass had been sung, all the worthy cripples threw away their sham
humps, and bandages, and wooden legs, and they laughed, and danced, and
skipped, and revelled, so that it was a pleasure to see so many people
enjoying themselves.
CHAPTER X.
OW you must be told
that the King of that country had a daughter _as lovely as the day,_ who had
never laughed in all her life!
She was as sad and sorry as the mournful
Bell that rings for a death, and so they called her the _Passing Belle_; it
was a sort of joke. *
* The French country people call the Passing
Bell La Dolente, and this unhappy Princess they named La Belle
Dolente. If any child cannot understand this, she may consult her nice
French grammar, and her French and English dictionary, and turn it over
in her mind till next Christmas.
Now, as she was an only child,
the 'Passing Belle had been spoiled from her very cradle. Cakes, toys,
diversions, such as playing at funerals, had been lavished on her, but she
never, never smiled.
They tried her with Punch and Judy, they tried her
with pantomimes, they took her to the play, but there never came a smile on
the pale lips of the Passing Belle.
She would not have laughed for a
King's ransom; nay, if you had ordered her off to instant execution, and laid
her head on the block, you could not have wrung a smile from her!
The
King, who had a strong sense of humour, was in despair. Finally he had a
proclamation printed:--
[Illustration: 0094]
WHOEVER CAN
MAKE
THE
PRINCESS
GIGGLE
SHALL WIN HER
FOR
HIS BRIDE.
Cambrinus R.
But nobody came!
Every
one thought it was hopeless to get a laugh from the Passing Belle. Then the
King, who was a very religious man, determined to take her to the shrine of
Saint Calixtus. Of course, if the Saint could make her smile, she would
become a nun, and perhaps, in the long run, would have been as solemn and
_lugubrious_ as ever.
CHAPTER XI.
LL the Court came, and all
the Court nearly died with laughing at the procession of the halt, and lame,
and blind. 'Go it, ye cripples,' cried his Majesty, in convulsions of
merriment! Some of the people were like X's, and some like Y's, and some like
Z's, and plenty of K's and S's, all the cross letters were there, all the
letters but straight upright I. Meanwhile the courtiers held their sides and
screamed, and the tears came into their eyes; but the Princess yawned like a
pretty little trout out of water! She did not see what there was to laugh
at!
Besides, if she _had_ laughed, perhaps they would have made her marry
a man with a hump upon his back, or two wooden legs and a glass
eye.
The fun was over, the King got up, the courtiers all rose, when
past came Johnny and the golden goose and all his company.
Now when
the Princess beheld our Johnny, and the landlord's three daughters, and the
fat Vicar, and the thin Beadle, and the two Curates, and the Organist, the
violin-player, the man with the comet, and all the wicked little choir-boys,
all stuck fast together, and all treading on each other's heels, she fell
into such convulsions of laughter that she dropped into the Queen's arms, and
chuckled till she was nearly dead.
The King, wild with delight, threw his
royal arms around the neck of our Johnny, shouting, 'Take her, you dog; she
is yours, my bonny boy!' and all the courtiers, falling on each other's
breasts, cried=
````Hooray, hooray,
````She's laughed
to-day!=
But our Johnny moved on, quite grave, to the altar of Saint
Calixtus, and there he laid the golden goose, after which all the people
who followed him were able to get free. The charm was broken.
Next day
was the marriage. They ate a whole flock of roast geese from Hergnies, and
they drank two vats of the local beer. In short, merrier times never were, in
all the merry country of Flanders, where the beer is so
excellent.
[Illustration: 0104]
CHAPTER
XII.
FTER the King died, Johnny succeeded to the vacant throne, and
the Chronicles report that he did not govern less wisely than
other monarchs, prime ministers, and politicians generally, before or
since.
The people of his own good town of Valenciennes had a statue
made of Johnny Nut, in walnut-wood, and a statue of his wife, and there
they stand on a tower, and strike time on the big clock; so you see
this story is quite true. Do not you believe any learned man who tells
you that Johnny is the Sun, and that the Goose is the Sun, and that
the Passing Belle is the Moon, or nonsense of that kind, which, my
dear children, is _too common!_ |
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