When Apples Grew Noses and White Horses Flew

When Apples Grew Noses
and White Horses Flew

TALES OF TI-JEAN

Jan Andrews

Illustrations by

Dušan Petričić

Groundwood Books / House of Anansi Press
Toronto Berkeley

Copyright © 2011 by Jan Andrews
Illustrations copyright © 2011 by Dušan Petričić
Published in Canada and the USA in 2011 by Groundwood Books

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This edition published in 2011 by
Groundwood Books / House of Anansi Press Inc.
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LIBRARY AND ARCHIVES CANADA CATALOGUING IN PUBLICATION
Andrews, Jan
When apples grew noses and white horses flew : tales of Ti-Jean / Jan Andrews ; illustrations by Dušan Petričić.
ISBN 978-0-88899-952-8
1. Ti-Jean (Legendary character) — Juvenile fiction. 2. Children's
stories, Canadian (English). I. Petričić, Dušan II. Title. III. Title:
Tales of Ti-Jean.
PS8551.N37W54 2011        jC813'.54        C2010-905903-4

Cover illustration by Dušan Petričić
The illustrations are in black pencil and Photoshop.
Design by Michael Solomon

We acknowledge for their financial support of our publishing
program the Canada Council for the Arts, the Ontario Arts Council, and the
Government of Canada through the Canada Book Fund (CBF).

To Ellis Lynn, who has inspired in so many
children a love of the old tales.
J.A.

For my grandson Uroš, who just learned to walk.
D.P.

A Word About Ti-Jean

As soon as you start going from one of these stories to another, you'll realize Ti-Jean is a hero unlike most others. He turns up in different times and places. He gets married at the end of one tale. He's on a quest for a bride at the beginning of the next. His mother is dead. No, she isn't. It's his father. He's wise, he's foolish. The only thing he isn't ever is rich.

So, you'll be asking, who is he? The answer is he's part of a long, long tradition (a lot like Jack in English fairy tales). He changes because we change and really he's all about us — the difficulties we get into and the adventures we're bound to have. Many, many people have created stories about him over the years. They've told those stories around fires and in logging camps, in countryside and in town. They've remembered those stories — perhaps not quite exactly, but what they have remembered, they've passed on.

What does that say? I think it says that if you have an urge to tell a Ti-Jean story or make one up, you should do it, but you should also be careful to share that story with someone else.

JAN ANDREWS

Ti-Jean and the Princess
of Tomboso

Cric, crac,
Parli, parlons, parlo.
If you won't listen,
Out you go.

L ÉTAIT UNE FOIS...
Which is to say,
There was once
...

There was once a farmer. That farmer had come to the New World from France in a ship with great white sails. He was just like everyone else who had chosen to journey here. He was searching for a better life.

He lived on a narrow strip of land running down to a river. All of the farms in that part of the country were narrow strips. All of them ran down to rivers so everyone could have a proper share of water and an easier way of getting about.

The work of the farm was hard. It did not exactly bring the farmer the riches he had hoped for, but he was content enough. He had three sons, and whenever they were worried about what the future might bring, he always said, “When I came from the Old Country I brought gifts that I have saved for you. When I die, you will have them. When you have the gifts, you'll have nothing to worry about.”

Time passed and the farmer grew old. He grew sick and took to his bed. He called his sons to him.

“Go into the barn,” he told them. “Far at the back, deep under the hay, you'll find a chest. That chest contains three objects, one for each of you. I'll give you the key now, but if you care about me, you'll wait until I am dead to use it.”

The sons did wait. They nursed their father and tended to him. They made sure he had a fine funeral with all of the neighbors to pray for his soul.

At last, however, the funeral was over.

“I believe we can look in the chest now,” the oldest son announced.

They went into the barn, all three of them together. They dug into the hay at the back. Sure enough, the chest was there as their father had told them it would be.

The oldest brother put the key in the lock and turned it. The second lifted the lid. The third just watched and waited. His name was Ti-Jean. He wasn't as quick off the mark as the other two. They didn't think much of his chances in the world.

Inside the chest were three objects, just as their father had said. One was a purse, one was a bugle, one was a belt. The objects were not quite the gifts the brothers had been expecting, but when the oldest brother saw his name on the purse, he picked it up.

On the side of the purse was writing.

Every time I open wide, a hundred gold coins are inside.

The oldest brother opened the purse. He could hardly believe his eyes. There were the gold coins all ready to be counted. He opened the purse again. There were more coins.

The brothers knew the money was going to be useful. It was going to be very useful indeed.