Once upon a time, there lived an old man - a kind soul. He lived with his wife, also a kind old woman, in a small white house not far from Snowdon.
Every evening, after dinner, the old man took a garbage can with cleaning, and as soon as he took about ten steps, he was already at the stone fence of his garden. Hop! And all the peelings behind the fence - onion peels, potato peels, carrot tops, and all that stuff.
And the next morning the neighbor’s pig came and ate everything, grunting with pleasure.
The kind old man's soul rejoiced looking at her. Needless to say, he really was a kind old man.
And then one evening, just when the moon was just rising, the old man, as usual, went out into the garden. Ten steps - and he was already at his fence. But just as he was about to empty the garbage can over the fence, he suddenly noticed that someone was standing nearby. Some stranger whom the kind old man had never seen before. Such a wonderful little man. Dressed in all green, only the vest is bright red. The style of his dress was also somehow strange - the old man had never seen anything like it in his life.
In addition, the stranger also squinted a lot. But most of all the old man was surprised by his huge, enormous feet.
Oh woe is me, woe! - said the strange stranger. - Is this really going to continue every evening? - And he pointed to the trash can.
The old man was surprised:
What is it? I've been doing this all my life, every single evening!
That's the trouble, every evening! - said the strange stranger and sighed so heavily that the kind old man felt sorry for him.
Does this make anyone feel bad? - he asked.
Worse than ever! - said the stranger.
But not the neighbor's pig! - objected the kind old man warmly. “She really loves peelings—onion skins, potato peels, carrot tops, and all that stuff—and comes here every morning to get them.”
“I know all this very well,” said the strange stranger and again sighed heavily. “Listen,” he continued, “would you like to stand on my feet?”
Shall I stand on your feet? - the old man was even more surprised. - How will this help you?
And here it will help! Then I will be able to show you what the trouble is.
Well, I’ll try,” says the old man, because he was a kind soul.
“Thank God,” he thought, “that this cross-eyed eccentric has such huge feet! You can probably really stand on them.”
And so, holding on to the stone fence, the kind old man stood up on the wonderful stranger’s feet and looked over the fence - exactly where he had poured out the garbage can every evening for thirty years of his life. And - lo and behold! It was as if he looked through the ground, as if it was not solid earth, but clean, transparent water, and saw there - no, just imagine! - a small white house, exactly like his own. But my God, how dirty he was! Its entire roof was covered in slop, onion peels clogged the chimney, potato peels were lying on the steps, carrot tops were floating in a clean bucket of water, and so on.
What a disaster! - said the old man. - Well, who would have thought!
Yes, and all these cleanings come into our room through the chimney,” said the stranger, almost crying. - And so for thirty years! My wife's heart breaks with grief that she cannot clean our house.
What a disaster! - the old man exclaimed. - What to do?
Think of something!
I'll think of something. But what?
I give you a day! Tomorrow I will come to you for an answer, but now get off my feet!
Before the good old man had time to take a few steps, both the white house and the big-legged, wonderful stranger disappeared, as if they had never existed.
When the old man returned home, his wife asked him why he had gone on such a spree in the moonlight. He told her everything.
Oh you, fathers! - exclaimed the kind old lady. - Well, the poor thing had to clean and wash her house every single day for thirty years in a row!
The old man and the old woman sat by the fireplace almost all night. If they slept, it was only a little - everyone was thinking and wondering what they should do.
And the next morning, as soon as it was dawn, they both hurried to the fence and looked through it. But they didn’t see anything like that - neither a strange, big-legged man, nor a small white house. Only the neighbor's pig. She dug the ground with a snout, but it was all in vain - there were no onion peels, no potato peelings, no carrot tops - there was nothing on the ground. The old man felt so sorry for her!
And when evening came and the moon appeared, he went to the fence. A strange little man - you probably guessed that it was a brownie, one of those brownies who guard the cleanliness of the house - yes, the strange little man was already waiting for him there.
Well, have you come up with anything? - he asked after they politely greeted each other.
Invented! - said the good old man.
Did your wife approve of what you came up with?
Approved! - said the old man.
So what did you come up with?
I'll move the door of our house to the other side!
So he did.
He called the carpenter, Mr. Williams, and the mason, Mr. Bill Davis - he was already too old to cope with such work - paid them generously, and they moved the door of his house to the other side. And every evening, after dinner, the old man, a kind soul, took a garbage can, and as soon as he took about ten steps, he was already at the fence of his garden. Hop! II all cleaning outside the fence.
Behind the fence, but only on the other side!
Since then, it has probably become the custom that the Welsh have the door on the wrong side.
Yes, but the old man, by the way, did not come out unscathed. With Mr. Williams, the carpenter, and with Bill Davis, the mason, he paid honor with honor. And yet it turned out that he didn’t spend a penny.
How so? - you ask.
And so that every Saturday, as soon as it got dark, the kind old man and his wife, also a kind old lady, found an old silver coin under their door.
Glossary:
- Good Soul
kind soul
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It’s good to meet a kind person in life: firstly, he has always seen, thought and experienced a lot, and therefore can tell and explain a lot; secondly, the very closeness of a good human soul enlightens and calms everything that touches it. How people get to the point where they become completely, absolutely kind, that they don’t blame, don’t get indignant, but only love and feel sorry for them is quite difficult to explain right away. However, it can be said almost without error that this cannot be achieved otherwise than by permanent job thoughts. When a person thinks a lot, when he considers not only the external signs of the actions and actions of his neighbors, but also the internal history that served as preparation for them, then it is very difficult to remain in the role of an accuser, even if the external signs of a certain action arouse indignation. As soon as thought explains and clears action of the impurities that confuse it, the heart cannot help but dissolve and justify. Criminals disappear; their place is taken by the “unfortunate”, and because of these “unfortunate” the good human soul burns, languishes and languishes...
We meet a lot of people in the world, but, unfortunately, most of them are precisely those who walk around with bulging eyes and don’t want to hear about anything except their small personal interests. These people are the most unfortunate, even more unhappy than those whom we actually call criminals. A real “criminal” may have his whole soul in pain before he decides to commit a crime, but this one, who walks with bulging eyes along the street, does his little nasty things at every step and doesn’t even feel that these nasty things are the same crimes and that from their dark mass flow all worldly misfortunes.
But there are many good people, and you, dear children, are always the quickest to distinguish them. When you feel that you are at ease and pleasant around a person; when your faces bloom with a smile at the sight of him, when you are instinctively attracted to caress him... know that he is as pure and sweet a person as you are; know that beating near you is exactly the same kind human heart that I want to talk about here.
Nowhere are there so many kind souls to be found as between women. A man is almost always up to his neck in his petty everyday affairs; it is more for the people, it is more often forced to fight, to see and endure injustice. Therefore, he has more reasons to cultivate a feeling of annoyance and has no time to consider his conclusions with the benefits of others; there is no time to forgive. Moreover, a certain amount of independence gave his actions a somewhat predatory character, as a result of which his favorite proverbs became: “That’s what war is for!” yes “Then pike into the sea, so that the crucian does not sleep!” On the contrary, from a very young age a woman is almost always alone and always in a pen; The real role to which - at least at the present time - a woman is condemned is the role of silence and fulfillment of other people's desires and whims. So she is silent, but at the same time she thinks, thinks a lot. And the more she thinks, the more painfully her own lonely life drags on, the more her loving, kind heart dissolves. She sees how a man fusses and struggles all his life, how he dissembles and dodges for a piece of daily bread, and the thought of “misfortune”, which, as if in some kind of net, has entangled the entire human race, spontaneously arises in her head. Whether her husband returns home angry and drunk, she thinks: “Lord! how unfortunate he is!” Whether her son will be caught in lawless deeds, she thinks: “Lord! how he must suffer and how he needs, how he needs a loving heart that could instill peace in his yearning soul!”
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When I was in that slum that I recently told you about, chance brought me together with one infinitely kind woman, the memory of whom will be blessed for me until the end of my life. This is what I will talk to you about.
It was the widow of a tradesman, Anna Markovna Glavshchikova. Her husband was once a wealthy merchant, but then he lived out his life, went bankrupt and died among the burghers, leaving Anna Markovna with a very limited fortune. As I remember now, she lived in her small one-story house, with three windows facing the street, near which stood a fairly spacious barn with large folding doors. In this barn, filled with all sorts of small goods, Mark Gavrilych, Anna Markovna’s father, an ancient old man, as if covered with moss, who no longer heard or saw almost anything, usually traded, but did not agree to let go of the reins of power. Seryozha, a rather lively boy, was assigned to help him, who was something like a nephew to Anna Markovna, and with their combined efforts they somehow managed to conduct business without any damage, although the father of the archpriest of the neighboring church, every time he passed by the Glavshchikovs’ shop, in no way I could resist not saying:
- Old age and youth have entered into an alliance; both cry out: “Help!”
When I got to know Anna Markovna, she was already a woman over fifty. Her face, apparently, even in her former, young years could not be called beautiful, but good nature and a kind of happy calmness shone in all its features. Sensitivity often made her cry, but she cried without any effort; tears will spontaneously flow from the eyes and flow down the senile rosy cheeks; and it was clear that she cried easily and cried sweetly. Often she also sighed, but these were not real sighs, but some kind of quiet sobbing, completely similar to a child’s. In general, her ugliness was of such a kind that one could very soon get used to it, and the more you get used to it, the better and freer you feel with it, so that in the end, perhaps, this face, devoid of all grace, will seem more beautiful than any beauty.
In one small English town there lived a grandfather chimney sweep. He was very old, and the years of his life had accumulated into a network of wrinkles on his face and tired hands. But everyone who greeted him was amazed by his eyes: transparent gray, radiant, young and young.
It is often said that chimney sweeps are “invisible people.” The chimney sweeps are neither heard nor seen, they go to their hard work when the whole city is still asleep, and return in the late evenings, stained with soot and coal - how can you see them.
Grandfather the chimney sweep also walked through the streets of the town at dawn, but he was recognized from afar by his rough work clothes, black top hat and a coil of strong rope slung over his shoulder.
Every passerby bowed to grandfather the chimney sweep and wished him a good day. He had been cleaning chimneys for so long that everyone forgot his real name and called grandfather Chimney Sweep-Kind-Soul.
One day a chimney sweep went to another house on a scorching frosty morning. It turned out to be an elegant mansion on a hill: it looked down on other houses, and its windows and doors were tightly closed, like a coat buttoned to all the buttons.
The Good-Soul chimney sweep walked up the steps and rang the brass bell. They opened a heavy door for him and led him into one of the rooms on the second floor so that he could inspect the fireplace before going up to the roof.
In a cozy, warm room, the chimney sweep saw two boys: one was older, the other was younger; one had his hair combed smoothly, the other had cocky cowlicks; one of them was wearing a green sweater, and the other was wearing a red sweater.
Toys and beautiful things filled the room. In the corner by the wall, as in a stable, wooden horses swayed, soldiers fought on the desk, and a toy train rode merrily along the carpet by the fireplace, its wheels clattering on the rails.
The boys looked away from the game for a minute and nodded to the chimney sweep. He smiled at the children, brushed crystal snowflakes from his gray mustache, looked into the fireplace, chuckled with satisfaction and, having learned from the owners where the stairs to the attic were, went upstairs.
The children had already forgotten about the strange guest and continued the game. But for some reason the game didn’t work out for them: as soon as one of them, Leo, took hold of the train, brother Theo got angry and took the train for himself. If they pretended to ride horses, they would argue loudly about which of them was the best rider. If they were playing ball, then one wanted to kick the ball and the other wanted to throw it.
The Good Soul chimney sweep was cleaning a chimney high on the roof. Everything was covered with ice, it was difficult to work, but he completed all the work and went down the attic stairs into the house.
His face was stained with soot, and the boys, seeing this, burst into laughter and began to tease their grandfather:
- Grimy, grimy, grimy chimney sweep! - they sang in chorus.
The maid, burning with shame for the boys, respectfully brought the chimney sweep a jug of water and helped him wash.
The Good-Soul chimney sweep washed away the soot and looked carefully at the guys. Then he spoke, and there was not a single note of irritation or anger in his voice:
- Boys, while I was cleaning the chimney, I heard all your quarrels through the fireplace and was surprised: you live in such prosperity, and yet you are such poor children.
Leo and Theo's eyes widened.
- Like this? We are not poor, our parents are the richest in our region.
The chimney sweep answered quietly:
- There is no peace and harmony in your beautiful nursery and in your hearts. You couldn’t come to an agreement in good children’s games, and a cruel joke against me united you. Is it supposed to be like this? Does evil unite people?
The brothers felt awkward and lowered their eyes:
- We want to be friends with each other, but we don’t always succeed. Sometimes such anger takes over, and there is nowhere to hide from it! What should we do?
The chimney sweep pointed to his soot-black hands:
- I am a simple man, not a scientist, I will explain to you this way: if the chimney is not cleaned of soot for a long time, it will become clogged and may break. So is the heart and soul of a person: if you do not cleanse them of anger and resentment for a long time, a person can become angry and cruel over time. I clean the chimney with my iron tools. And the heart and soul are cleansed after repentance, forgiveness and sincere tears.
Leo and Theo looked at each other and hugged tightly.
They asked the chimney sweep for forgiveness for offending him.
They approached mom and apologized for her naughty behavior.
Mom was touched and asked dad for forgiveness for forgetting to prepare his favorite cabbage pie for dinner.
Dad relented and apologized to the cook for raising his voice at her.
Peace and quiet reigned in the house on the hill.
...The chimney sweep-Kind-Soul, throwing a heavy rope over his shoulder and adjusting his top hat, walked through the quiet sleeping town to his hut on the outskirts.
Arriving home, he dined on milk, bread and cheese and set the clock for the very early morning.
After all, he still had so many houses to visit.
Collection of fairy tales - coming soon to Ridero!
Tulip elves English folk tales
Tulip elves
Cherry from Zennor
Elf workers
Fairy Nurse
Magic ointment
The Legend of Pantannas
Chowder in eggshell
Taffy Ap Zion and the magic circle of Fairies
Per. N. Budur
Tulip elves
In the West of England, not far from Tywi, there lived a kind old woman. Her house stood on the edge of an elven field, where green circles could be seen in the grass. Now people say that these “fairy rings” come from elves catching foals. They catch them and ride them around and around all night. That's what people say. But the old woman thought differently. Her clean house stood in a wonderful garden full of fragrant flowers. There grew lavender and mallow, lilies and rosemary, gillyflowers and cloves, forget-me-nots and rue. But the best thing was the large flower bed of tulips, which the old lady took special care of. When the tulips bloomed, there was not a person passing by who would not stop to admire them.
The elves loved the old lady and her garden very much!
One summer night, when the air was filled with the aroma of white lilacs that grew under the old woman’s window, she was awakened by strange sounds. At first she thought it was an owl hooting in the elm branches, but soon realized that a hoarse owl was not able to make such gentle sounds.
“Yes, this looks like a lullaby,” the old woman was surprised and listened to the magical music.
But then she decided to get up and see what was happening in her garden. Illuminated by the pale light of the moon, bright tulips swayed their heads to the beat of a charming melody. It seemed that they themselves were singing too.
The same thing happened on the second and third nights. At this point the old lady understood what was going on. The elves brought babies to her garden and put them to sleep in tulips: one elf child per flower.
“They lull their babies to sleep,” the old woman whispered touchingly. - Shh! Yes, here they are, my dears! The elven children have already fallen asleep, and the adult elves go to prance in my field.
And she was absolutely right.
It was not the foals trampling circles on the green grass, but the elves themselves, when they danced to the sounds of magical music. But as soon as the dawn began to glow in the east, the elves hurried to the old woman in the garden for their children, and then they became invisible and disappeared.
Oh my God! - the old lady was surprised. - Yes, elves kiss their babies before they take them out of the flowers! How they love them!
She soon noticed that the tulips did not fade as quickly as other flowers in the garden. It even seemed to her that they would never bloom at all. And one fine day, when the old woman bent over the tulips, she suddenly noticed that from the breath of the elves they became even more beautiful and smelled wonderful - like lilies and roses.
“No one will pick a single tulip in my garden now,” the old woman decided. - Even myself. Let them bloom to the delight of the elves!
Year after year went by.
And the time has come for the old lady to die. It was a sad day for her garden, and the tulips hung their heads.
They really had reason to grieve, because the garden had passed into other hands. Its new owner didn't care about the elves and their babies. He tended the garden only for the fruits and berries. Pies with gooseberries, raspberries and plums turned out incredibly tasty!
“You shouldn’t pick gooseberries ahead of time,” his neighbor once told the new owner of the garden. - It will bring you misfortune. Elves don't like it when their goods are taken away.
Elves? What nonsense? - the owner of the garden laughed.
And you decided to dig up all the tulips? The old lady loved them very much. What do you want to plant there?
I'm going to make a parsley bed there if you're interested!
Parsley? Oh my God! Don't you know that this is a bad omen? I have only heard of one person who decided to plant a bed of parsley. Immediately afterwards he fell ill and died.
What nonsense! - the new owner of the garden snorted.
And he dug up all the tulips and planted parsley in their place. But the elves got angry and dried it up, and at the same time the entire old garden. They were very offended.
At night they no longer rocked their babies in the tulip flower bed, but people sometimes heard them singing nearby. But now they came to the old woman’s grave, and their song was sad and mournful. They always sang on the night before the full moon.
No one cared for the old woman's grave, but it never became overgrown. Just as she looked after the tulips of the elves, they now looked after her grave. No one planted flowers there, but at night the old woman’s favorite flowers always bloomed on the grave: rosemary and gillyflowers, lavender and forget-me-nots, sweet peas and ruga.
What is true and what is false here, I don’t know.
But I still trust you with this legend.
Cherry from Zennor
Old Hani lived with his wife and children in small house of two rooms and a "bedroom" on the rocky shore of Tririn in Zennor. The old people had six children. They lived as best they could, but not very well - they had only a few acres of meager land, on which even a sheep could not feed itself.
There were a lot of shells lying around the house, and it was as if the poor family ate only scallops and oysters. But on weekdays they had fish and chips for lunch, and on Sundays they had the occasional pork and gravy. White bread was baked for Christmas and Easter.
But the children were handsome and healthy. One of the daughters was named Cherry. She ran fast, like a hare, and loved to play pranks and jokes.
One day the miller’s son came to the city, tied up his horse, and went off to find out if anyone would take grain to the mill. Meanwhile, Cherry jumped onto her horse and galloped towards the rocks. The miller's son set off in pursuit of her, but Cherry galloped to a rocky cliff, which a horse could not climb, jumped to the ground and began to jump from stone to stone - even a hound could not keep up with her, let alone the miller's son.
Cherry grew up and became a girl of marriageable age, but Cherry is no longer happy. Year after year, her mother promised her a new dress so that she could go to the fair and festivities, but the family did not have any extra money. Cherry had nothing to wear to church, or to her friends, or anywhere else young girls go.
Cherry turned sixteen. One of her friends was bought a new dress with ribbons and lace, and she wore it to church in Nankledery. The girl told Cherry about this and how many guys wanted to take her home after the sermon. Cherry was very upset. And she told her mother that she decided to go look for work in the villages in the valley of Toudneck and Zennor. Maybe you can earn money and buy an elegant dress like other girls.
Then her mother asked her to first look for a job in Toadneck so that they could see each other at least occasionally on Sundays.
“Well, no,” Cherry objected to her. “I will never work in a village where cows chew bell rope and people eat fish and chips every day and eel pie on Sundays.” [pie - Pie]
And one fine day Cherry collected her things, tied them in a bundle and got ready to go look for work. She promised her father that she would try to settle closer to home and visit her parents more often. Old Man Honey asked to beware of pirates and robbers, but Cherry did not really pay attention to his words.
She went along the road to Ludgvan and Gyulval. As soon as Tririn's chimneys disappeared from sight, she became frightened and was about to return home, but changed her mind and moved on.
She walked to the Four Way Crossing at Lady Downs, sat down on a stone by the side of the road and began to cry as if she were leaving home forever.
She cried and decided that it was best for her to immediately turn home.
She wiped her eyes, raised her head and suddenly saw an unfamiliar gentleman coming towards her. She could not understand where he had come from - after all, just a few minutes ago the road to the Downs had been deserted.
The gentleman wished her " good morning", asked how to get to Tvednak, and then asked where Cherry was going.
Cherry replied that she had only left home today to find a job, but something was uneasy in her heart, and therefore she decided to return to her parents.
“I didn’t think I’d be so lucky,” said the gentleman. “I’m just looking for a girl to look after the house.”
And he told Cherry that his wife had died, leaving him with a little son, a lovely boy, whom she could look after. She suits him very well. Neat and pretty. He, of course, noticed that the dress was a patch on a patch, but she herself was as fresh as a rose, and all sea water Couldn't make it any cleaner. Poor Cherry only responded to such speeches with “Yes, sir,” but she herself did not understand half of what was said. Her mother taught her to respond this way when a priest or some other gentleman addressed her, and she did it just like now! - I didn’t understand what they were talking to her about.
The stranger said that he lived nearby, a little to the side, in the lowlands, that she would have little work - milk the cow and look after the child. And Cherry decided to go with him. On the way, he spoke so affably to Cherry that the girl did not notice how time passed or where they were going.
But then they walked along a dark alley, through the branchy trees of which not a single ray of sunlight could break through. There were greenery and flowers all around, and honey was in the air...
Long ago, even before the first sailors set sail, eager to see the lands that lie beyond the sea, a sea king and a sea queen lived peacefully and happily under the waves. They had many beautiful children.
Slender, brown-eyed children played all day with cheerful sea lambs and swam in the thickets of purple algae that grow on the bottom of the ocean. They loved to sing, and wherever they sailed, they sang songs similar to the splashing of waves.
But then great grief came to the sea king and his carefree children.
Once upon a time there lived a poor little tailor in Klitra, in the county of Lancashire. He worked conscientiously, but no matter how hard he tried, he could not get out of poverty. When things got really bad for him, the poor guy decided to sell his soul to the devil. Who could blame him for this? Like every person, he wanted at least a little money and joy in this world, and what would happen in the next - it didn’t matter.
The poor tailor found out exactly what to do and how to do it. I wrote a letter in which I agreed to give my soul to the devil in fifteen years, and before going to bed, I put the letter under my pillow. The next morning, instead of a letter, he found half a crown there. The tailor knew that these half-crowns were a deposit, and if he took the deposit, it meant that he agreed to the deal.
He took the money, and although it was small, he still rejoiced, anticipating better times. Now he will no longer be hungry or cold! Soon he will buy himself everything he wants, live in a big house, and eat to his heart's content. And even drink wine!
In the good old time - and it really was a good time, although it was not my time or your time, or anyone else's time - there lived a girl in the world. Her mother died and her father married someone else. The stepmother hated her stepdaughter because the girl was more beautiful than her, kept her in a black body, forced her to do all the menial housework and did not leave her alone for a moment. Finally she decided to get rid of it completely. She handed the girl a sieve and said:
- Go, fill this sieve with water from a source that is at the end of the world. Bring the sieve, too small, otherwise you’ll have a bad time!
The stepmother thought that the girl would never find a source at the end of the world, and if she did find it, would she carry the water in a sieve?
And so the girl set off on her journey and asked everyone she met, where is that source that is at the end of the world? But no one knew this, and she kept thinking and wondering what she should do.
Once upon a time there was a young man named Jack. One morning he went to seek his fortune around the world. After walking a little, he met a cat.
-Where are you going, Jack? - asked the cat.
- I'm going to seek happiness.
- Can I go with you?
“Yes,” said Jack, “it will be more fun than going alone.”
Top and top, top and top. They walked a little and saw a dog.
That was a long time ago. An old woman named Clootie came to a village that stands on the banks of the beautiful River Tyne.
The men of this village were happy and satisfied with their lot. From time immemorial they sat on this land, grazed sheep and cows, plowed, sowed and lived in abundance. Everyone had strong, good houses, warm clothes in winter and plenty of all kinds of food. And so everything went on until the old woman Clootie came to the village and settled in a small house with a rickety chimney.
The women of this village were hard-working and friendly; they baked their own bread and rolls, sewed and knitted, and stocked up on provisions for the winter. And so everything went on until the old woman Clootie came to the village and settled in a small house with a rickety chimney.
During the reign of King John, the abbot of Canterbury lived in his abbey as well as the king himself. Every day a hundred monks dined with him in the refectory, and he was always surrounded by a retinue of fifty knights in velvet robes and with gold chains on their chests.
As you know, King John was an unusually bad king. He did not tolerate any of his subjects - even the Holy Father - being revered more than himself. And he summoned the Abbot of Canterbury to his place.
The Cat and the Parrot agreed to invite each other over for lunch every day. Today, say, the Parrot calls the Cat to him, and the next day - vice versa, and so on. First it was Cat's turn.
The cat bought half a penny's worth of rice and the same amount of milk and sugar at the market.
The parrot, arriving at the appointed time, saw nothing but lean food. Moreover, the Cat took such poor care of his guest that he had to cook for himself.
The next day it was Parrot's turn. He bought thirty pounds of flour at the market, plenty of butter and sugar and everything he needed to bake pies. There were so many of them that they could fill a huge basket, like the ones laundresses carry. In total, five hundred rosy, delicious pies came out.
Once upon a time, two brothers lived in the wilderness of Scotland. They lived in a very secluded place, many miles from the nearest village, and they were served by an old cook. Apart from the three of them, there was not a soul in the house, except for the old woman’s cat and hunting dogs.
One autumn, the elder brother, Elshender, decided to stay at home, and the younger brother, Fergas, went hunting alone. He went far into the mountains, to where he had hunted with his brother the day before, and promised to return home before sunset.
But the day was over, it was high time to sit down for dinner, and Fergas still did not return. Elshender became worried - he had never had to wait so long for his brother.
In those days, a beautiful young king ruled in this country, and this king decided one day to go on a journey in search of a bride; she must be beautiful, of noble birth, and above all, a royal bride must be modest, hard-working and sincere. The king would not have agreed to anything less. So he decided, got on his horse one morning and set off.
He rode and rode, and the road led him to the place where Little Mattie was grazing his sheep. Seeing the little shepherdess, the king politely greeted her and said:
- God bless you, Little Matty, how are you doing?
“Okay, thank you,” answered Little Matty, “even though I’m dressed in rags.” But when I marry the king, I will dress only in pure gold!
“This will never happen,” said the king.
“Oh, no, that’s exactly what will happen,” said Little Matty.
