He realized that he couldn’t cook greens without water, but the spring was so far away. And besides, he also had to churn butter! How on earth was he going to manage it all?

  “If I put the churn on my back and shake it while I’m running to the spring, it’ll probably turn to butter by the time I get back,” he thought.

  And that is what he did. But in his haste he forgot to put the lid on, and when he bent to haul up the water bucket, the cream poured over his shoulders and head and down into the spring.

  Disheartened, he returned with the soupy, creamy water.

  Now he had to tend to the cow, and since he couldn’t be both inside and outside at the same time, how was he going to manage? On top of the house’s sod roof, the grass shone a bright green in the sunshine; there was a juicy pasture! He tied a long rope around the cow’s neck and pulled her up onto the roof, then threw the other end of the rope down the chimney.

  Feeling a little happier, he went back inside the cottage and tied the tether hanging down through the chimney around his own waist so that the cow wouldn’t get away from him. Then he started blowing on the fire under the pot. But while he was occupied blowing, the cow fell off the roof and pulled him up into the chimney!

  At that very moment the old woman came home with a big bundle of firewood on her back. When she saw the cow hanging alongside the cottage wall, she hurried as fast as she could and cut the rope. Then she went inside. There on the floor lay the old man, smoked, burned, and half suffocated.

  “God preserve us!” she exclaimed. “Is this how you’ve been managing at home?”

  The poor old man couldn’t utter a word; he just moaned and groaned. But it didn’t take the old woman long to see how he’d managed: the bacon was gone, the beer run out, the bread burned to coal. The cream was in the spring and her jacket chopped up in the pot. The cow was hanged and the old man himself badly bruised and burned.

  What happened later is not hard to guess. The old woman was allowed to care for her house in peace and quiet while the old man went off to the forest. Never again was he heard to complain of his lot.

  THE TWO OLD WOMEN’S BET

  United States

  One time there were two old women got to talkin’ about the men-folks: how foolish they could act and what was the craziest fool thing their husbands had ever done. And they got to arguin’, so finally they made a bet which one could make the biggest fool of her husband.

  So one of ’em said to her man when he come in from work that evenin’, says, “Old man, do you feel all right?”

  “Yes,” he says, “I feel fine.”

  “Well,” she told him, “you sure do look awful puny.”

  Next mornin’ she woke him up, says, “Stick out your tongue, old man.” He stuck his tongue out, and she looked at it hard, says, “Law me! you better stay in the bed today. You must be real sick from the look of your tongue.”

  Went and reached up on the fireboard, got down all the bottles of medicine and tonic was there and dosed the old man out of every bottle. Made him stay in the bed several days, and she kept on talkin’ to him about how sick he must be. Dosed him every few minutes and wouldn’t feed him nothin’ but mush.

  Came in one mornin’, sat down by the bed, and looked at him real pitiful, started in snifflin’ and wipin’ her eyes on her apron, says, “Well, honey, I’ll sure miss ye when you’re gone.” Sniffed some more, says, “I done had your coffin made.”

  And in a few days she had ’em bring the coffin right on in beside the old man’s bed. Talked at the old man till she had him thinkin’ he was sure ’nough dead. And finally they laid him out, and got everything fixed for the buryin’.

  Well, the day that old woman had started a-talkin’ her old man into his coffin, the other’n she had gone on to her house and about the time her old man came in from work she had got out her spinnin’ wheel and went to whirlin’ it. There wasn’t a scrap of wool on the spindle, and the old man he finally looked over there and took notice of her, says, “What in the world are ye doin’, old woman?”

  “Spinnin’,” she told him, and ’fore he could say anything she says, “Yes, the finest thread I ever spun. It’s wool from virgin sheep, and they tell me anybody that’s been tellin’ his wife any lies can’t see the thread.”

  So the old man he come on over there and looked at the spindle, says, “Yes, indeed, hit surely is mighty fine thread.”

  Well, the old woman she’d be there at her wheel every time her old man come in from the field—spin and wind, spin and wind, and every now and then take the shuck off the spindle like it was full of thread and lay it in a box. Then one day the old man come in and she was foolin’ with her loom, says, “Got it all warped off today. Just got done threadin’ it on the loom.” And directly she sat down and started in weavin’—step on the treadles, throwin’ the shuttle and it empty. The old man he’d come and look and tell her what fine cloth it was, and the old woman she’d weave right on. Made him think she was workin’ day and night. Then one evenin’ she took hold on the beam and made the old man help her unwind the cloth.

  “Lay it on the table, old man—Look out! You’re a-lettin’ it drag the floor.”

  Then she took her scissors and went to cuttin’.

  “What you makin’, old woman?”

  “Makin’ you the finest suit of clothes you ever had.”

  Got out a needle directly and sat down like she was sewin’. And there she was, every time the old man got back to the house, workin’ that needle back and forth. So he come in one evenin’ and she says to him, “Try on the britches, old man. Here.” The old man he shucked off his overalls and made like he was puttin’ on the new britches.

  “Here’s your new shirt,” she told him, and he pulled off his old one and did his arms this-a-way and that-a-way gettin’ into his fine new shirt. “Button it up, old man.” And he put his fingers up to his throat and fiddled ’em right on down.

  “Now,” she says, “Let’s see does the coat fit ye.” And she come at him with her hands up like she was holdin’ out his coat for him, so he backed up to her and stuck his arms in his fine new coat.

  “Stand off there now, and let me see is it all right—Yes, it’s just fine. You sure do look good.”

  And the old man stood there with nothin’ on but his shoes and his hat and his long underwear.

  Well, about that time the other old man’s funeral was appointed and everybody in the settlement started for the buryin’ ground. The grave was all dug and the preacher was there, and here came the coffin in a wagon, and finally the crowd started gatherin’. And pretty soon that old man with the fine new suit of clothes came in sight. Well, everybody’s eyes popped open, and they didn’t know whether they ought to laugh or not, but the kids went to gigglin’ and about the time that old man got fairly close, one feller laughed right out, and then they all throwed their heads back and laughed good. And the old man he’d try to tell somebody about his fine new suit of clothes, and then the preacher busted out laughin’ and slappin’ his knee—and everybody got to laughin’ and hollerin’ so hard the dead man sat up to see what was goin’ on. Some of ’em broke and ran when the corpse rose up like that, but they saw him start in laughin’—laughed so hard he nearly fell out the coffin—so they all came back to find out what-’n-all was goin’ on.

  The two old women had started in quarrelin’ about which one had won the bet, and the man in the coffin heard ’em, and when he could stop laughin’ long enough, he told ’em, says, “Don’t lay it on me, ladies! He’s got me beat a mile!”

  A STROKE OF LUCK

  Hungary

  He went plowing. He was a poor man. The plow cut a furrow and turned up a lot of money. When he set eyes on it, he began to speculate about what to say to his wife. He feared that she might blurt it out to the neighbors, and they would be served a summons to appear before the magistrate.

  He went and bought a hare and a fish.

  When she brought him his midday mea
l, he said to her after he had dined, “Let’s fry a fish.”

  She said, “What do you think! How could we catch a fish here in the field?”

  “Come on, woman, I’ve just seen a couple of them, when I was plowing around the blackthorn shrub.” He led her to the blackthorn shrub.

  Says the woman, “Look, old man, there’s a fish.”

  “Haven’t I told you so?” And he flung the ox goad at the shrub so that the fish turned out at once.

  Then he said, “Let’s catch a hare.”

  “Don’t be kidding me. You haven’t got a gun.”

  “Never mind. I’ll knock it off with the ox goad.”

  They were going along when she cried out, “Look! there’s a hare on the tree yonder there.”

  The man flung his goad at the tree and the hare fell down.

  They were working till the day drew to a close, and in the evening they made their way home. When they went past the church, they heard an ass braying.

  The man said to the woman, “You know what the ass is braying? He is saying, ‘The priest says in his sermon that soon a comet will appear and that will be the end of the world!’ ”

  They went on. When they passed the city hall, the ass uttered another loud bray. The man said, “The ass says, ‘The magistrate and the town clerk have just been caught embezzling public funds.’ ”

  As time wore on they were making good use of their money.

  The neighbors kept asking them, “Where did that lot of money come from?”

  Then she said to one of the neighbor women, “I wouldn’t mind telling you, but you mustn’t pass it on to anyone.” And she told her that they had found the money. Their neighbor reported it to the magistrate, and they were summoned to appear before him. And when he was questioned about the money, the man denied it. By no means did they find any money. Not a penny had been found by them.

  The magistrate then said, “Your wife will tell me.”

  “What’s the use asking her. She’s just a silly woman,” he said.

  The woman flew into a temper and began to shout at him, “Don’t you dare say that again. Didn’t we find the money when we caught the fish under the blackthorn bush?”

  “Now Your Honor may hear for yourself. Catching a fish in a bush. What next!”

  “Can’t you remember how you shot down a hare from the tree with the ox goad?”

  “Well, haven’t I told Your Honor? It’s no use asking that fool of a woman.”

  “A fool you are yourself. Have you forgotten that on our way home we heard an ass braying when we passed the church, and you said that the priest was preaching that a comet would appear and that would be the end of the world?”

  “Now wasn’t I right, Your Honor? It would be better to leave her alone, or she might give offense with her silly talk.”

  The woman flew into a rage and said, “Don’t you remember that when we were passing the city hall and the ass uttered a loud bray you were telling me that the magistrate and the town clerk had been just caught out …”

  The magistrate jumped to his feet and said to the man, “Take her home, my good man. She seems to have lost her wits.”

  THE SAUSAGE

  Sweden

  There was once an old woman, who was all alone one evening in her cottage, occupied with her household affairs. While she was waiting for her husband, who was away at work over in the forest, and while she was bustling about, a fine, grand lady came in, and so the woman began to curtsey and curtsey, for she had never seen such a grand person before.

  “I should be so much obliged if you would lend me your brewing pan,” said the lady, “for my daughter is going to be married, and I expect guests from all parts.”

  Oh dear, yes! That she might have, said the woman, although she could not remember whether she had ever seen her before, and so she went to fetch the pan.

  The lady took it, and thanked the woman, saying that she would pay her well for the loan of it, and so she went her way.

  Two days afterwards the lady came back with it, and this time she also found the woman alone.

  “Many thanks for the loan,” said the lady, “and now in return you shall have three wishes.”

  And with this the lady left, and vanished so quickly that the old woman had not even time to ask her name or where she lived. But that did not matter, she thought, for now she had three wishes, and she began to think what she should wish for. She expected her husband back soon, and she thought it would be best to wait till he came home and could have a say in the matter. But the least they could wish for must be a fine big farm—the best in the parish, and a box full of money, and just fancy how happy and comfortable they would be then, for they had worked so hard all their days! Ah, yes, then the neighbors would have something to wonder at, for you may guess how they would stare at all the fine things she would have.

  But since they were now so rich it was really a shame that there should be nothing but some blue, sour milk and some hard crusts of bread in the cupboard for her husband when he came home tired and weary, he who was fond of hot food. She had just been to her neighbor’s, and there she had seen a fine big sausage, which they were going to have for supper.

  “Ah, deary me, I wish I had that sausage here!” sighed the old woman; and the next moment a big sausage lay on the table right before her.

  She was just going to put it in the pan when her husband came in.

  “Father, father!” cried the woman, “it’s all over with our troubles and hard work now. I lent my brewing pan to a fine lady, and when she brought it back she promised we should have three wishes. And now you must help me to wish for something really good, for you’re so clever at hitting upon the right thing—and it’s all true, for just look at the sausage, which I got the moment I wished for it!”

  “What do you mean, you silly old woman?” shouted the husband, who became angry. “Have you been wishing for such a paltry thing as a sausage, when you might have had anything you liked in the world? I wish the sausage were sticking to your nose, since you haven’t any better sense.”

  All at once the woman gave a cry, for sure enough there was the sausage sticking to her nose; and she began tearing and pulling away at it, but the more she pulled the firmer it seemed to stick. She was not able to get it off.

  “Oh dear, oh dear!” sobbed the woman. “You don’t seem to have any more sense than I, since you can wish me such ill-luck. I only wanted something nice for you, and then—oh dear, oh dear!” and the old woman went on crying and sobbing.

  The husband tried, of course, to help his wife to get rid of the sausage; but for all he pulled and tugged away at it he did not succeed, and he was nearly pulling his wife’s head off her body.

  But they had one wish left, and what were they now to wish?

  Yes, what were they to wish? They might, of course, wish for something fine and grand; but what could they do with all the finery in the world, as long as the mistress of the house had a long sausage sticking to the end of her nose? She would never be able to show herself anywhere!

  “You wish for something,” said the woman in the midst of her crying.

  “No, you wish,” said the husband, who also began crying when he saw the state his wife was in, and saw the terrible sausage hanging down her face.

  So he thought he would make the best use he could of the last wish, and said:

  “I wish my wife was rid of that sausage.”

  And the next moment it was gone!

  They both became so glad that they jumped up and danced round the room in great glee—for you must know that although a sausage may be ever so nice when you have it in your mouth, it is quite a different thing to having one sticking to your nose all your life.

  NAIL SOUP

  Sweden

  There was once a tramp, who went plodding his way through a forest. The distance between the houses was so great that he had little hope of finding a shelter before the night set in. But all of a sudden he saw some lights betw
een the trees. He then discovered a cottage, where there was a fire burning on the hearth. How nice it would be to roast one’s self before that fire, and to get a bite of something, he thought; and so he dragged himself towards the cottage.

  Just then an old woman came towards him.

  “Good evening, and well met!” said the tramp.

  “Good evening,” said the woman. “Where do you come from?”

  “South of the sun, and east of the moon,” said the tramp; “and now I am on the way home again, for I have been all over the world with the exception of this parish,” he said.

  “You must be a great traveler, then,” said the woman. “What may be your business here?”

  “Oh, I want a shelter for the night,” he said.

  “I thought as much,” said the woman; “but you may as well get away from here at once, for my husband is not at home, and my place is not an inn,” she said.

  “My good woman,” said the tramp, “you must not be so cross and hard-hearted, for we are both human beings, and should help one another, it is written.”

  “Help one another?” said the woman. “Help? Did you ever hear such a thing? Who’ll help me, do you think? I haven’t got a morsel in the house! No, you’ll have to look for quarters elsewhere,” she said.

  But the tramp was like the rest of his kind; he did not consider himself beaten at the first rebuff. Although the old woman grumbled and complained as much as she could, he was just as persistent as ever, and went on begging and praying like a starved dog, until at last she gave in, and he got permission to lie on the floor for the night.

  That was very kind, he thought, and he thanked her for it.

  “Better on the floor without sleep, than suffer cold in the forest deep,” he said, for he was a merry fellow, this tramp, and was always ready with a rhyme.

  When he came into the room he could see that the woman was not so badly off as she had pretended; but she was a greedy and stingy woman of the worst sort, and was always complaining and grumbling.