Folk Tales of Scotland (6 page)
Read Folk Tales of Scotland Online
Authors: William Montgomerie
‘O when will you come, my honey, my hert,
O when will you come, my ain kind dearie;
For don’t you mind upon the time
We met in the wood at the Well so wearie?’
Well, the night after the firing of the mill, the miller’s daughter wandered into the wood alone, and wandered and wandered till she came to the Black Well. Then the wee
bogle gripped her and jumped about singing:
‘O come with me, my honey, my hert,
O come with me, my ain kind dearie;
For don’t you mind upon the time
We met in the wood at the Well so wearie?’
With that he made her drink three double handfuls of witched water, and away they flew on a flash of lightning. When the poor lass opened her eyes, she was in a palace, all gold and silver and
diamonds, and full of fairies.
The King and Queen of the Fairies invited her to stay, and said she would be well looked after. But if she wanted to go home again, she must never tell anybody where she had been or what she had
seen.
She said she wanted to go home, and promised to do as she was told. Then the King said:
‘The first stranger you meet, give him brose.’
‘Give him bannocks,’ said the Queen.
‘Give him butter,’ said her King.
‘Give him a drink of the Black Well water,’ they both said.
Then they gave her twelve drops of liquid in a wee green bottle, three drops for the brose, three for the bannocks, three for the butter and three for the Black Well water.
She took the green bottle in her hand, and suddenly it was dark. She was flying through the air, and when she opened her eyes she was at her own doorstep. She slipped away to bed, glad to be
home again, and said nothing about where she had been or what she had seen.
Next morning, before the sun was up, there came a rap, rap, rap, three times at the door. The sleepy lass looked out and saw an old beggar-man, who began to sing:
‘O open, the door, my honey, my hert,
O open the door, my ain kind dearie;
For don’t you mind upon the time
We met in the wood at the Well so wearie?’
When she heard that, she said nothing, and opened the door. The old beggar came in singing:
‘O gie me my brose, my honey, my hert,
O gie me my brose, my ain kind dearie;
For don’t you mind upon the time
We met in the wood at the Well so wearie?’
The lassie made a bicker of brose for the beggar, not forgetting the three drops of water from the green bottle. As he was supping the brose the old beggar vanished, and there in his place was
the big Highlander who had lent silver to her father, the miller, and he was singing:
‘O gie me my bannocks, my honey, my hert,
O gie me my bannocks, my ain kind dearie;
For don’t you mind upon the time
We met in the wood at the Well so wearie?’
She baked him some fresh bannocks, not forgetting the three drops from the wee green bottle. He had just finished eating the bannocks when he vanished, and there in his place was the woodcock
that had fired the mill, singing:
‘O gie me my butter, my honey, my hert,
O gie me my butter, my ain kind dearie;
For don’t you mind upon the time
We met in the wood by the Well so wearie?’
She gave him butter as fast as she could, not forgetting the three drops of water from the green bottle. He had only eaten a bite, when he flapped his wings and vanished, and there was the ugly
wee bogle that had gripped her at the Black Well the night before, and he was singing:
‘O gie me my water, my honey, my hert,
O gie me my water, my ain kind dearie;
For don’t you mind upon the time
We met in the wood by the Well so wearie?’
She knew there were only three other drops of water left in the green bottle and she was afraid. She ran fast as she could to the Black Well, but who should be there before her but the wee ugly
bogle himself, singing:
‘O gie me my water, my honey, my hert,
O gie me my water, my ain kind dearie;
For don’t you mind upon the time
We met in the wood by the Well so wearie?’
She gave him the water, not forgetting the three drops from the green bottle. But he had scarcely drunk the witched water when he vanished, and there was a fine young Prince, who spoke to her as
if he had known her all her days.
They sat down beside the Black Well.
‘I was born the same night as you,’ he said, ‘and I was carried away by the fairies the same night as you were found on the lip of the Well. I was a bogle for so many years
because the fairies were scared away. They made me play many tricks before they would let me go and return to my father, the King of France, and make the bonniest lass in all the world my
bride.’
‘Who is she?’ asked the maiden.
‘The Miller of Cuthilldorie’s daughter,’ said the young Prince.
Then they went home and told their stories over again, and that very night they were married. A coach-and-four came for them, and the miller and his wife, and the Prince and the Princess, drove
away singing:
‘O but we’re happy, my honey, my hert,
O but we’re happy, my ain kind dearie;
For don’t you mind upon the time
We met in the wood at the Well so wearie?’
HE
T
ALE OF THE
S
OLDIER
NCE
there was an old soldier who had deserted from the army. He climbed a hill at the top
end of the town, and said:
‘May the Mischief carry me away on his back the next time I come within sight of this town!’
He walked and walked till he came to a gentleman’s house.
‘May I stay in your house tonight?’ he asked.
‘You’re an old soldier with the look of a brave man,’ said the gentleman. ‘You can’t stay here, but you may stay in the castle beside that wood yonder till morning.
You’ll get a pipe and tobacco, a cogie of whisky, and a Bible.’
After supper, the soldier, whose name was John, went to the castle and lit a big fire. When part of the night had gone, two strange brown women came in carrying a chest. They put it by the
fireside and went out. With the heel of his boot John stove in the end of it, as he couldn’t open the lid, and he pulled out an old grey man. He sat the man in the big chair, gave him a pipe
and tobacco, a cogie of whisky and a Bible, but the old grey man let them fall on the floor.
‘Poor man,’ said John, ‘you’re cold!’
John stretched himself on the bed, and left the old grey man to warm himself at the fire, and there the grey man stayed till the cock crew, then he took himself off.
The gentleman came in the morning early.
‘Did you sleep well?’ he asked.
‘I did,’ said John. ‘Your father wasn’t the kind of man to frighten me!’
‘I’ll give you two hundred pounds if you stay in the castle tonight.’
‘I’ll do that,’ said John.
Well, the same thing happened again that night. Three brown women came in carrying a chest. They put it by the fireside and went out. John could not open it, so with the heel of his boot he
stove in the end of it, and pulled out the old grey man. As he had done the night before, he sat the old grey man in the big chair and gave him a pipe and tobacco. But the old grey man let them
fall.
‘Poor man,’ said John, ‘you’re cold!’
So he gave him a cogie of whisky, but the old man let it fall. John slept soundly all night, while the old man stayed awake by the fire till cock crow. Then he went away, as he had the night
before.
‘If I stay here tonight, and you come,’ said John, ‘you’ll pay for my pipe and tobacco, and my cogie of whisky!’
The gentleman came in the morning early.
‘Did you sleep well last night, John?’ said he.
‘I did,’ said John. ‘Your old father wasn’t the kind of man to frighten me.’
‘If you stay in the castle tonight, you shall have three hundred pounds.’
‘That’s a bargain,’ said the soldier.
Well, when part of the night had gone, four strange brown women came carrying a chest, and put it down beside John. He stove in the end of the chest with his boot, pulled out the old grey man,
and sat him in the big chair. He gave him the pipe and tobacco, the cogie and the whisky, but the old grey man dropped them, and broke the pipe and the cogie,
‘Before you go tonight, you’ll pay me for all you’ve broken,’ said John.
The old grey man said nothing. John took the strap of his haversack, tied the old grey man to his side, and took him to bed with him. When the cock crew, the old man begged him to let him
go.
‘Pay for what you’ve broken first,’ said John.
‘I’ll tell you then,’ said the old grey man. ‘There’s a wine cellar down there, and in it there’s plenty of drink, tobacco and pipes. There’s another
little room beside the cellar, and in it there’s a pot full of gold. Under the threshold of the big door there’s a crock full of silver. Did you see the women that brought me last
night?’
‘I did,’ said John.
‘They’re the four poor women from whom I stole some cows. They carry me every night this way to punish me. Go and tell my son how I am being tired out. Let him pay for the cows, and
not be hard on the poor. You and he can divide my gold and silver between you, and you can marry my old widow. But remember, give plenty of what’s left to the poor, I was too hard on them.
Then I may rest in peace.’
The gentleman came in the morning and John told him all that had happened. But John refused to marry the widow of the old grey man.
After a day or two, John would stay no longer. He filled his pockets with gold, and asked the gentleman to give what was left of his share to the poor.
He went home, but he soon wearied there, and would rather have been back with the regiment. One day he left home and marched on and on till he came to the hill that he had climbed before. He
climbed to the top and who should he meet there but the Mischief!
‘You’ve come back, John?’
‘I’ve come back right enough, but who are you?’
‘I’m the Mischief. You gave yourself to me when you were last here, remember?’
‘I’ve heard tell of you,’ said John, ‘but I’ve never seen you before. My eyes are deceiving me. I don’t believe it’s you at all, but make yourself into
a snake and I’ll believe you.’
The Mischief did so.
‘Now make yourself into a roaring lion.’
The Mischief did so.
‘Well,’ said John, ‘if I’m to be your servant, go into my haversack and I’ll carry you. But you mustn’t come out till I tell you, or the bargain’s
broken.’
The Mischief promised, and did as he was told.
‘I’m going to see my brother in the regiment,’ said John to the Mischief in his haversack, ‘but you must keep quiet.’
John went into the town, and one man here and another man there cried out: ‘There’s John, the deserter!’
John was arrested and tried in court. He was sentenced to be hanged next day, at noon. John said he’d rather be shot.
‘Since you’re an old soldier, and have been a long time in the army, you shall have your wish,’ said the Colonel.
Next day, John was about to be shot, and the soldiers were all round him, and the firing squad was getting into line, when the Mischief called from inside the haversack: