Bailey - Stories from The Tale of Cuffy Bear - Keeping the Public in Public Domain

For those in southeastern Michigan, Sunday, April 26, is the National Day of Puppetry. Come to the Clarkston Independence District Library for a free workshop at 3:00 p.m. on "Puppets from Dollar Store Items" with Brad Lowe. Make a puppet and learn tips on using this inexpensive addition to storytimes.  The Detroit Puppeteers Guild will hold a brief meeting open to the public after the workshop.  Registration is at https://events.getlocalhop.com/detroit-puppeteers-guild/event/OXSPafBRTz/ .

Puppets are such a great addition to storytelling. I once had a campground that wanted stories about bears. Prowling some of the stories by Arthur Scott Bailey about Cuffy Bear easily turned up many adventures I shared with a puppet bear. Bailey wrote more than forty children's books. Cuffy was Bailey's first book with The Tale of Cuffy Bear and so popular he wound up writing four more about the mischievous bear, but I counted 42 other books about a wide variety of animals and insects. Plenty of facts and adventures can be found in his nature stories for whatever puppet you might have.

Because it's spring I'm going to give the second adventure Cuffy had. Telling it, I would omit the comments about the porcupine and Cuffy's injuries from it. The book I have is battered and obviously well-loved by its first owner. It includes on the cover  this illustration about the porcupine.

 

(The story said: Cuffy Gave It One Good, Hard Cuff.) 

III

CUFFY AND THE WONDERFUL SPRING

The pricks of the porcupine's quills made Cuffy Bear's paws so sore that it was several days before he could run about again. And during all that time Cuffy was a very good little bear. He did not cuff his sister Silkie once. You see, he knew it would hurt his sore paws if he did.

The days were still fine. Cuffy loved to feel the bright sunshine upon his black coat. It warmed him through and through and he did not care at all if his feet did get wet in the melting snow.

At last one afternoon when his paws were quite well again Cuffy strayed some distance down the side of Blue Mountain, He was alone, because Silkie was asleep. You know, she was younger than Cuffy and still had to take naps. Cuffy had slid and tumbled down the mountainside until he was further from home than he knew. It did seem good to be able to put his paws upon the ground again without whimpering with pain. And coming to a short, steep place, Cuffy felt so glad that he actually turned a somersault and landed in a heap at the foot of the bank. He sat there for a moment, brushing the soft snow out of his face, when a flash of light dazzled his eyes. It came from a tree right in front of him. And Cuffy at once jumped up and ran to see what it was. He found that some one had fastened a shiny, new tin bucket to the trunk of the tree.

Cuffy felt that he must have that bucket to play with. He knew that he could have heaps of fun rolling it about on the ground. And he was just going to knock it off the hook that held it when he noticed that a small spout had been driven into the tree just above the bucket. And as Cuffy stood there on his hind legs, reaching up as high as he could, he saw a tiny drop fall from the spout and go splash! into the bucket. Then, as he watched, another drop fell; and another and another and another. Cuffy wondered where they came from. It must be—he thought—that there was a spring inside that tree. Yes! he was sure of it, for the bucket was half full of water. He felt thirsty, for he had not had a drink since lunch-time. And so Cuffy stuck his head into the pail and took a good, big swallow.

The next instant he squealed with joy. It was the nicest water he had ever tasted in all his life, for it was quite sweet—just as if somebody had left a heap of honey in the bottom of the bucket. But when Cuffy licked the end of the spout with his little red tongue he found that that tasted sweet too. Yes! it certainly was a wonderful spring. Cuffy was very glad that he had found it. And he decided that he would drink all he could of the delicious, sweet water and leave the pail hanging there. Then he could come back the next day and there would be more of that wonderful water all ready and waiting for him to drink up.

---

IV

CUFFY LEARNS SOMETHING

After leaving the wonderful spring Cuffy Bear was so long getting home that he decided he would not say anything to his father and mother about what he had found. You see—he was afraid they would tell him not to go so far away from home again. But Cuffy had not been long in the snug little house before he had a terrible stomach-ache. He stood the pain as long as he could without saying anything. But he simply had to hang onto his little fat stomach with both his front paws. And at last he began to cry softly. Then Mrs. Bear asked him what he had been doing; and before Cuffy knew it he had told all about finding the delicious, sweet water.

"How much did you drink?" asked his mother.

"Oh—only a little," Cuffy answered faintly.

Then Mrs. Bear nodded her head three times. She was very wise—was Mrs. Bear. And she knew quite well that Cuffy had drunk a great deal too much of that nice-tasting water. So she made Cuffy lie down and gave him some peppermint leaves to chew. In a little while he began to feel so much better that before he knew it he had fallen asleep.

When Cuffy waked up he found that his father had come home. And soon Mr. Bear had Cuffy on one knee, and Silkie on the other, and he was telling them all about maple-sugar. For of course you knew all the time that what Cuffy had found was not a spring at all—but a sugar-maple tree, which Farmer Green had tapped so that he might gather the sap and boil it until it turned to maple-sugar. If Cuffy had gone further down the mountainside he would have found a great many other trees, each—like the one he discovered—with a tin bucket hanging on it to catch the sweet sap.

"So you see there are many things for little bears to learn," Mr. Bear said, when he had finished. "And the one big lesson you must learn is to keep away from men. Farmer Green visits those trees every day to gather the sap. So you must not go down there again."

A cold shiver went up and down Cuffy's back at these words. Farmer Green! Cuffy had heard a great deal about Farmer Green and he certainly did not want to meet him all alone and far from home. But as soon as the tickle of that shiver stopped, Cuffy forgot all about his fright.

"This maple-sugar—does it taste as good as the sweet sap?" he asked his father.

"Yes, my son—a hundred times better!" Mr. Bear replied. "I ate some once And I shall never forget it."

A hundred times better! After he had gone to bed that night the words kept ringing in Cuffy's ears. A hundred times better! A hundred times better!... A hundred—And now Cuffy was fast asleep and—I am sorry to say it—sucking one of his paws for all the world as if it was a piece of Farmer Green's maple-sugar.

****

In case you are considering more about Cuffy, Project Gutenberg gave the book this introduction:

"The Tale of Cuffy Bear" by Arthur Scott Bailey is a children's storybook written in the early 20th century. This charming tale follows the antics of a young bear named Cuffy as he explores the woods around Blue Mountain, encounters various animals, and learns valuable lessons about behavior and the world. With its engaging storytelling and whimsical adventures, the book captures the innocence and curiosity of childhood. The story begins with Cuffy waking up after a long winter's sleep and enjoying the arrival of spring. His adventures include finding a porcupine, discovering a sugar-maple tree, and learning to swim with the help of his father, Mr. Bear. Throughout the tale, Cuffy's mischief often leads him into trouble, such as trying to capture a pig from Farmer Green's farm and getting chased by hornets. These humorous escapades, mixed with moments of reflection and growth, reveal Cuffy's character development as he learns about friendship, family, and the dangers of the wild. All of these experiences culminate in heartwarming lessons for both Cuffy and the readers, making the book an enjoyable read for children and adults alike. 

With so many books by Bailey, Project Gutenberg provides a great service providing 44 of the books. For those extra four about Cuffy, go to Internet Archive.

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This is part of a series of postings of stories under the category, “Keeping the Public in Public Domain.” The idea behind Public Domain was to preserve our cultural heritage after the authors and their immediate heirs were compensated. I feel strongly current copyright law delays this intent on works of the 20^th century. My own library of folklore includes so many books within the Public Domain I decided to share stories from them. I hope you enjoy discovering them.

At the same time, my own involvement in storytelling regularly creates projects requiring research as part of my sharing stories with an audience.  Whenever that research needs to be shown here, the publishing of Public Domain stories will not occur that week.  This is a return to my regular posting of a research project here.  (Don't worry, this isn't dry research, my research is always geared towards future storytelling to an audience.)  Response has convinced me that "Keeping the Public in Public Domain" should continue along with my other postings as often as I can manage it.

See the sidebar for other Public Domain story resources I recommend on the page “Public Domain Story Resources."

 

National Library Week & Westervelt - Maui - Keeping the Public in Public Domain

 

National Library Week: April 19-25 this year encourages library lovers to "Find Your Joy" including the way you dress! 

 

Hawaii especially is mentioned in these suggestions: 

1. Wear Hawaiian shirts or tourist clothes from places you’ve visited because “reading takes us places” - Sunday the 19th
2. Wear a hat because we take our “hats off to reading” - Monday the 20th
3. Wear your favorite color because we are a “rainbow of readers” - Tuesday the 21st
4. Wear a shirt with a positive message or message about reading because “we positively love books” - Wednesday the 22nd
5. Wear something with a rainbow or wear multiple colors/colors of the rainbow to celebrate Reading Rainbow - Thursday the 23rd
6. Wear your favorite college gear because reading makes our futures bright - Friday the 24th
7. Wear animal print or pattern because we are “wild about reading” - Saturday the 25^th

Of course stories from Hawaii should also be told and read. The biggest problem is finding story sources that don't get too filled with Hawaiian words for those of us called "haole" or "foreigner."

Being unfamiliar with most Hawaiian words, I found the easiest version of the stories to tell in William Drake Westervelt's Hawaiian Historical Legends. The book isn't well-known compared to Padraic Colum's At the Gateways of the Day which I have included here before. 

Why didn't I once again use Colum? I decided to tell about Maui (no, not the island, but the Polynesian demi-god who is THE main Hawaiian figure) and Colum gives too much for quick easy storytelling. 

Nowadays when the character Maui is presented it's quite possible you or your storytelling audience think about Maui as seen in the movie Moana. Keep in mind that Disney's version of the mythological figure has faced criticism from prominent Polynesians for cultural insensitivities.

Westervelt fell in love with Hawaii and wrote a lot about its history and legends, but I think it was because he was a pastor originally from Ohio. As a result he was sensitive to all of us "foreigners" he wanted to introduce to Hawaii. As a result he looked at existing collections and then hit just the right note for us, shortening and simplifying those stories and the use of the Hawaiian language for names and places. If you go to him on Project Gutenberg, you will find five of his anthologies.

I also find it interesting that so many cultures explain how fire was found.

Enjoy! or as National Library Week tells us, "Find Your Joy!" especially when it means traveling there in a story.

MAUI THE POLYNESIAN

Among the really ancient ancestors of the Hawaiian chiefs, Maui is one of the most interesting. His name is found in different places in the high chief genealogy. He belonged to the mist land of time. He was one of the Polynesian demi-gods. He was possessed of supernatural power and made use of all manner of enchantments. In New Zealand antiquity he was said to have aided other gods in the creation of man.

Nevertheless he was very human. He lived in thatched houses, had wives and children, and was scolded by the women for not properly supporting his family. Yet he continually worked for the good of men. His mischievous pranks would make him another Mercury living in any age before the beginning of the Christian era.

When Maui was born his mother, not caring for him, cut off a lock of her hair, tied it around him and cast him into the sea. In this way the name came to him, Maui-Tiki-Tiki, “Maui formed in the topknot.”

The waters bore him safely. Jellyfish enwrapped him and mothered him. The god of the seas protected him. He was carried to the god’s house and hung up in the roof that he might feel the warm air of the fire and be cherished into life.

When he was old enough he came to his relations while they were at home, dancing and making merry. Little Maui crept in and sat down behind his brothers. His mother called the children and found a strange child, who soon proved that he was her son. Some of the brothers were jealous, but the eldest addressed the others as follows:

“Never mind; let him be our dear brother. In the days of peace remember the proverb, ‘When you are on friendly terms, settle your disputes in a friendly way; when you are at war, you must redress your injuries by violence.’ It is better for us, brothers, to be kind to other people. These are the ways by which men gain influence—by labouring for abundance of food to feed others, by collecting property to give to others, and by similar means by which you promote the good of others.”

Thus, according to the New Zealand story related by Sir George Grey, Maui was received in his home.

Maui’s home in Hawaii was for a long time enveloped in darkness. According to some legends the skies pressed so closely and so heavily upon the earth that when the plants began to grow all the leaves were necessarily flat. According to other legends the plants had to push up the clouds a little, and thus the leaves flattened out into larger surface, so that they could better drive the skies back. Thus the leaves became flat and have so remained through all the days of mankind. The plants lifted the sky inch by inch until men were able to crawl about between the heavens and the earth, thus passing from place to place and visiting one another. After a long time Maui came to a woman and said: “Give me a drink from your gourd calabash and I will push the heavens higher.” The woman handed the gourd to him. When he had taken a deep draught he braced himself against the clouds and lifted them to the height of the trees. Again he hoisted the sky and carried it to the tops of the mountains; then, with great exertion, he thrust it up to the place it now occupies. Nevertheless, dark clouds many times hang low along the great mountains and descend in heavy rains, but they dare not stay, lest Maui, the strong, come and hurl them so far away that they cannot come back again.

The Manahiki Islanders say that Maui desired to separate the sky from the earth. His father, Ru, was the supporter of the heavens. Maui persuaded him to assist in lifting the burden. They crowded it and bent it upward. They were able to stand with the sky resting on their shoulders. They heaved against the bending mass and it receded rapidly. They quickly put the palms of their hands under it, then the tips of their fingers, and it retreated farther and farther. At last, drawing themselves out to gigantic proportions, they pushed the entire heavens up to the very lofty position which they have ever since occupied.

On the island Hawaii, in a cave under a waterfall, dwelt Hina-of-the-fire, the mother of Maui.

From this home Maui crossed to the island Maui, climbed a great mountain, threw ropes made from fibres of plants around the sun’s legs, pulled off many and then compelled the swift traveller of the heavens to go slowly on its way that men might have longer and better days.

Maui’s home, at the best, was only a sorry affair. Gods and demi-gods lived in caves and small grass houses. The thatch rapidly rotted and required continual renewal. In a very short time the heavy rains beat through the decaying roof. The home was without windows or doors, save as low openings in the ends or sides allowed entrance to those willing to crawl through. Here Maui lived on edible roots and fruits and raw fish, knowing little about cooked food, for the art of fire-making was not yet known.

By and by Maui learned to make fire by rubbing sticks together.

A family of mud hens, worshipped by some of the Hawaiians in later years, understood the art of fire-making.

From the sea Maui and his brothers saw fire burning on a mountain side but it was always put entirely out when they hastened to the spot.

Maui proposed to his brothers that they go fishing, leaving him to watch the birds. But the Alae counted the fishermen and refused to build a fire for the hidden one who was watching them. They said among themselves, “There are three in the boat and we know not where the other one is, we will make no fire to-day.”

So the experiment failed again and again. If one or two remained or if all waited on the land there would be no fire—but the dawn which saw the four brothers in the boat, saw also the fire on the land.

Finally Maui rolled some kapa cloth together and stuck it up in one end of the canoe so that it would look like a man. He then concealed himself near the haunt of the mud-hens, while his brothers went out fishing. The birds counted the figures in the boat and then started to build a heap of wood for the fire.

Maui was impatient—and just as an old bird began to select sticks with which to make the flames he leaped swiftly out and caught her and held her prisoner. He forgot for a moment that he wanted the secret of fire-making. In his anger against the wise bird his first impulse was to taunt her and then kill her for hiding the secret of fire.

But the bird cried out: “If you are the death of me—my secret will perish also—and you cannot have fire.”

Maui then promised to spare her life if she would tell him what to do.

Then came a contest of wits. The bird told the demi-god to rub the stalks of water plants together. He guarded the bird and tried the plants. Then she told him to rub reeds together—but they bent and broke and he could make no fire. He twisted her neck until she was half dead—then she cried out: “I have hidden the fire in a green stick.”

Maui worked hard but not a spark of fire appeared. Again he caught his prisoner by the head and wrung her neck, and she named a kind of dry wood. Maui rubbed the sticks together but they only became warm. The twisting process was resumed—and repeated until the mud-hen was almost dead—and Maui had tried tree after tree. At last Maui found fire. Then as the flames rose he said: “There is one more thing to rub.” He took a fire stick and rubbed the top of the head of his prisoner until the feathers fell off and the raw flesh appeared. Thus the Hawaiian mud-hen and her descendants have ever since had bald heads, and the Hawaiians have had the secret of fire-making.

Maui was a great discoverer of islands. Among other groups he “fished up from the ocean” New Zealand and the Hawaiian Islands with a magic hook. One by one he pulled them to himself out of the deep waters. He discovered them.

Thus Maui raised the sky, lassoed the sun, found fire and made the earth habitable for man. 

********** 

This is part of a series of postings of stories under the category, “Keeping the Public in Public Domain.” The idea behind Public Domain was to preserve our cultural heritage after the authors and their immediate heirs were compensated. I feel strongly current copyright law delays this intent on works of the 20^th century. My own library of folklore includes so many books within the Public Domain I decided to share stories from them. I hope you enjoy discovering them.

At the same time, my own involvement in storytelling regularly creates projects requiring research as part of my sharing stories with an audience.  Whenever that research needs to be shown here, the publishing of Public Domain stories will not occur that week.  This is a return to my regular posting of a research project here.  (Don't worry, this isn't dry research, my research is always geared towards future storytelling to an audience.)  Response has convinced me that "Keeping the Public in Public Domain" should continue along with my other postings as often as I can manage it.

See the sidebar for other Public Domain story resources I recommend on the page “Public Domain Story Resources."

 

Macmillan - The Moon and His Frog-Wife - Keeping the Public in Public Domain

There have already been a half dozen tales here about the moon, but this week's travels by Artemis 2 around the dark side of the moon had me looking for more. I confess I wasn't happy with what I found until I discovered today's story. It even fits the idea of the dark side of the moon!

Photo by Chris Linnett on Unsplash 

Cyrus Macmillan produced more than one version of his Canadian Wonder Tales, starting in 1918, but this story didn't appear until 1920 and in later editions. I have a 1974 version which includes an illustration of the frog in this story, but that would still be under copyright. Frankly the 1974 frog illustration doesn't show the frog on the moon, so the story requires you to picture it anyway. Something else I found more challenging is the way the story explains the change in names for the Sun and the Moon. Telling the story is best set up by explaining this carefully until the audience understands that for the first part of the story they are the opposite of what they are now and this story explains how that happened. If the idea of Glooskap, the Canadian First Nations creator or first human, is new to listeners, that, too, should be explained although his role in the story is fairly obvious.

 

 

******************** 

This is part of a series of postings of stories under the category, “Keeping the Public in Public Domain.” The idea behind Public Domain was to preserve our cultural heritage after the authors and their immediate heirs were compensated. I feel strongly current copyright law delays this intent on works of the 20^th century. My own library of folklore includes so many books within the Public Domain I decided to share stories from them. I hope you enjoy discovering them.

At the same time, my own involvement in storytelling regularly creates projects requiring research as part of my sharing stories with an audience.  Whenever that research needs to be shown here, the publishing of Public Domain stories will not occur that week.  This is a return to my regular posting of a research project here.  (Don't worry, this isn't dry research, my research is always geared towards future storytelling to an audience.)  Response has convinced me that "Keeping the Public in Public Domain" should continue along with my other postings as often as I can manage it.

See the sidebar for other Public Domain story resources I recommend on the page “Public Domain Story Resources."

 

 

 

Wishes at this holy time!

 These two images say it for me!

Sandburg - Pig Wisps - Keeping the Public in Public Domain

Before we leave "March is Reading Month" I want to have a bit of fun with the alphabet which our reading needs. Carl Sandburg wrote not one, not two, but three stories about "the Letter X and How It Got into the Alphabet." My favorite of the three is "Pig Wisps."

ILLUSTRATION BY MAUD AND MISKA PETERSHAM

Just as the concept of leaving out the letter X is fanciful, Project Gutenberg describes Rootabaga Pigeons, the book where it appears, as "a whimsical collection of children's stories." It concludes by saying "The stories are rich with imaginative details, capturing the essence of childhood curiosity and the power of storytelling."

Normally I suggest retelling literary stories to make them more tellable, but with a fanciful poet like Sandburg the language is an important part of the fun! (Project Gutenberg has both Rootabaga Pigeons and the earlier Rootabaga Stories.) Both were "Originally created for Sandburg's own daughters", so don't let the whimsy keep you from enjoying it with or without an audience!

Pig Wisps

There was an oyster king far in the south who knew how to open oysters and pick out the pearls.

He grew rich and all kinds of money came rolling in on him because he was a great oyster opener and knew how to pick out the pearls.

The son of this oyster king was named Shovel Ears. And it was hard for him to remember.

“He knows how to open oysters but he forgets to pick out the pearls,” said the father of Shovel Ears.

“He is learning to remember worse and worse and to forget better and better,” said the father of Shovel Ears.

Now in that same place far in the south was a little girl with two braids of hair twisted down her back and a face saying, “Here we come—where from?”

And her mother called her Pig Wisps.

Twice a week Pig Wisps ran to the butcher shop for a soup bone. Before starting she crossed her fingers and then the whole way to the butcher shop kept her fingers crossed.

If she met any playmates and they asked her to stop and play cross-tag or jackstones or all-around-the-mulberry-bush or the-green-grass-grew-all-around or drop-the-handkerchief, she told them, “My fingers are crossed and I am running to the butcher shop for a soup bone.”

One morning running to the butcher shop she bumped into a big queer boy and bumped him flat on the sidewalk.

“Did you look where you were running?” she asked him.

“I forgot again,” said Shovel Ears. “I remember worse and worse. I forget better and better.”

“Cross your fingers like this,” said Pig Wisps, showing him how.

He ran to the butcher shop with her, watching her keep her fingers crossed till the butcher gave her the soup bone.

“After I get it then the soup bone reminds me to go home with it,” she told him. “But until I get the soup bone I keep my fingers crossed.”

Shovel Ears went to his father and began helping his father open oysters. And Shovel Ears kept his fingers crossed to remind him to pick out the pearls.

He picked a hundred buckets of pearls the first day and brought his father the longest slippery, shining rope of pearls ever seen in that oyster country.

“How do you do it?” his father asked.

“It is the crossed fingers—like this,” said Shovel Ears, crossing his fingers like the letter X. “This is the way to remember better and forget worse.”

It was then the oyster king went and told the men who change the alphabets just what happened.

When the men who change the alphabets heard just what happened, they decided to put in a new letter, the letter X, near the end of the alphabet, the sign of the crossed fingers.

On the wedding day of Pig Wisps and Shovel Ears, the men who change the alphabets all came to the wedding, with their fingers crossed.

Pig Wisps and Shovel Ears stood up to be married. They crossed their fingers. They told each other other they would remember their promises.

And Pig Wisps had two ropes of pearls twisted down her back and a sweet young face saying, “Here we come—where from?”

***

So did you cross your fingers?

Now just for fun grab a book and try reading it without the letter X!

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This is part of a series of postings of stories under the category, “Keeping the Public in Public Domain.” The idea behind Public Domain was to preserve our cultural heritage after the authors and their immediate heirs were compensated. I feel strongly current copyright law delays this intent on works of the 20^th century. My own library of folklore includes so many books within the Public Domain I decided to share stories from them. I hope you enjoy discovering them.

At the same time, my own involvement in storytelling regularly creates projects requiring research as part of my sharing stories with an audience.  Whenever that research needs to be shown here, the publishing of Public Domain stories will not occur that week.  This is a return to my regular posting of a research project here.  (Don't worry, this isn't dry research, my research is always geared towards future storytelling to an audience.)  Response has convinced me that "Keeping the Public in Public Domain" should continue along with my other postings as often as I can manage it.

See the sidebar for other Public Domain story resources I recommend on the page “Public Domain Story Resources."

 

Puppetry at the end of the month + looking ahead to Easter and Passover

Sometimes calendars just seem to get packed with so much to do! I'm posting about an event in the metro Detroit area coming up. Beyond this local event it's time to start thinking of stories and crafts for Easter and Passover.

 

If you are able, join us for a live, in-person Detroit Puppeteers Guild meeting at Clarkston Independence District  Library March 29th from 2:30 pm to 4 pm.

Learn about all kinds of Puppetry and watch Puppets as they perform puppet shows in the "Over the Rainbow" show by Herdsmen Puppets.

If you are a Puppeteer, Puppet builder, or just like Puppets and want to learn more, then this is the guild for you.

Share this event with your friends!

Then bring them to meet some of the puppet people that live in the Detroit area. 

 

Beyond that everybody is planning for Easter. There are already a lucky 13 Easter stories.

Here are some Easter crafts including All Natural Natural Easter Egg Dyes. 

At the same time this blog has a pair of Passover stories and suggestions for sources of even more beyond this.

MacManus (Klingensmith adaptation) - Billy Beg and His Bull (Part 2) - Keeping the Public in Public Domain

Illustration by Patten Wilson in Best Stories to Tell to Children by Sara Cone Bryant

The story of Billy Beg continues after his bull was killed.

*** 

After three days he came to a farm that belonged to an old gentleman.

Billy asked the old gentleman for work. The old gentleman said he wanted such a boy to herd the cattle. Billy asked what cattle he would have to herd and what wages he would get.

"Three goats, three cows, three horses, and three donkeys,” said the old gentleman, "but no boy that goes to herd them ever comes home alive. There are three giants, brothers, that come to milk the goats and cows, and always kill the herd boy, so we will not say what wages till we see if you come back alive.”

"All right,” said Billy. 

So next morning he got up early, drove out the three goats, the three cows, the three horses, and the three donkeys to the pasture field.

At noon Billy heard three terrible roars that shook the nuts off the trees, and up came a giant with three heads.

"You are too big for one bite, and too small for two," said the giant, "What shall I do with you?’’ 

"I'll fight you,’’ said Billy.

Billy soon made a sword of his stick by swinging it three times round his head.

"How shall I kill you'? Shall it be by a swing from the back, a cut of the sword, or by a blow from my fist?” 

"By a swing from the back if you can,” said Billy.

So they both laid hold, and Billy lifted the giant off his feet and brought him down so hard that he sank into the ground up to his arms.

 "Oh, have mercy,” said the giant.

But Billy cut off his heads with his sword.

It was evening when the fight was over. So Billy drove home the three goats, three cows, the three horses, and the three donkeys. All the pails and kettles and bowls in the house wouldn’t hold the milk the cows gave that night.

''Well,” said the old gentleman, "you are the first herd boy that ever came back alive, and this is the first time the cows ever gave any milk. Didn’t you see anything in the pasture?’

"Nothing worse than myself,’’ said Billy. "What about my wages now?”

"Well,” said the old gentleman, "I think you won’t come back alive to-morrow, so we will wait and see.”

Next morning the old gentleman told Billy something must have happened to one of the giants, for he had only heard two of them roaring.

After breakfast Billy set off with the three goats, the three cows, the three horses, and the three donkeys. About twelve he heard six terrible roars that shook the nuts off the trees and made his hair stand on end, and along came a frightful giant with six heads.

"You killed my brother yesterday,” roared the giant with his six mouths, but I will pay you to-day. You are too big for one bite and too small for two. What shall I do with you?”

"I’ll fight you,” said Billy, swinging his stick three times round his head to make it turn into a sword and give him the strength of a thousand men.

The giant laughed at his size and said, "How shall I kill you? With a swing from the back, a cut of the sword, or a blow from my fist?”

"With a swing from the back, if you can,” said Billy.

So they both laid hold and Billy lifted him off his feet and sunk him into the ground up to his arms.

 ‘‘Oh, mercy, cried the giant, but Billy cut off his six heads.

It was evening by that time and Billy drove the three goats, the three cows, the three horses and the three donkeys to the barn. The milk the cows gave that night overflowed all the pails and kettles and bowls in the house. Running out it made a brook and turned an old mill that hadn’t been turned in thirty years.

The old gentleman was ten times as much surprised to see Billy alive as he had been the day before.

“Didn’t you see anything in the pasture to-day?” said he.

“Nothing worse than myself,” said Billy. “What about my wages now?”

“Never mind about your wages till to-morrow,” said the old gentleman. “If you come back alive, we’ll see then.”

In the morning the old gentleman said, “I only heard one giant roaring last night. The other two must be ill.”

“Perhaps they are dead,” said Billy, as he drove out the three goats, the three cows, the three horses, and the three donkeys.

At noon Billy heard so many roars, he couldn’t count them. He looked about and saw a giant as big as the other two together, with twelve heads.

“You villain,” roared the giant. “You killed my two brothers, but I’ll be even with you. You are too big for one bite and too small for two. How would you rather be killed — by a swing from the back, or a cut from the sword, or by a blow from the fist?”

"By a swing from the back,” said Billy, waving his stick three times around his head.

The giant laughed at Billy’s size and they both laid hold. Billy swung the giant in the air and sunk him into the ground, just as he had the other two. Then he cut off his twelve heads and drove home the three goats, the three horses, and the three donkeys.

The milk that the cows gave that night ran down into a valley, where it made a lake three miles long, and three miles wide, and three miles deep.

"Did you see nothing in the pasture to-day?” said the old gentleman.

"Nothing worse than myself,” said Billy. "What about my wages now?”

"You are a good herd boy,” said the old gentleman, "and I can’t get along well without you, so I will give you whatever you ask.”

Next morning the old gentleman said to Billy, "I heard none of the giants roaring last night. I wonder what has happened to them?”

"Perhaps they are all dead,” said Billy.

"Well, good luck to the lad that killed them then,” said the old gentleman. "Now you must mind the cattle again to-day, Billy, while I go to see the fight.’’

‘‘What fight?” said Billy.

 

“The king’s daughter is going to be devoured by a fiery dragon, if somebody doesn’t kill it,” said the old gentleman. “The greatest fighter in the kingdom has been practicing for three months to get ready for the fight. If he can kill the dragon the king will give him the princess for his wife.”

Billy drove the three goats, the three cows, and the three horses, and the three donkeys to pasture. While they were feeding he watched the people go by. Never had he seen the like of it. They went in coaches and carriages, on horses and donkeys and oxen, and riding and running and walking.

“Why don’t you come to see the fight, my boy?” said a man who passed by.

“Would they let me in?” said Billy.

“Of course they would,” said the man. “Everybody is to have a seat.”

When they were all gone, Billy put on the old gentleman’s best suit and rode off to see the fight on the best horse in the stable.

At the king’s palace, Billy saw the king’s daughter with the whole court sitting around her on a high platform. Down below the great warrior, who was to fight the dragon, was walking up and down with three men to carry his sword. But when the fiery dragon came up roaring and spitting fire from every one of his twelve heads, the great warrior ran away and hid himself in a well, up to his mouth in water.

Then the princess began to weep and say, "Will nobody fight the dragon and save my life?"

Nobody stirred until Billy put his hide belt around his waist, waved his stick three times around his head, and after a terrible fight, killed the dragon.

Everybody ran to look at the dead dragon. While they were looking, Billy jumped upon his horse and was running away. Nobody noticed him but the princess. She caught his foot and tried to hold him, but he slipped away from her leaving his shoe in her hand.

Billy had changed his clothes and brought in all the cattle by the time the old gentleman got home. The old gentleman began at once to tell him about the great fight, how the warrior had hidden in the well, and how a handsome young man had come down out of the clouds on a black horse, killed the dragon, and flown up into the sky again. "Wasn't it wonderful?’’ said the old gentleman.

 

"Oh, very wonderful,” said Billy.

After that it was given out that all the young men in the kingdom should come to the king’s palace to try on the shoe. When the day came Billy was in the pasture as usual with the three cows, the three horses, the three goats, and the three donkeys.

Everybody called to him, "Aren't you going to try on the shoe?’
 

"They wouldn’t let the like of me try it on,” said Billy.

When the people had all passed by, there came a ragged man like a scarecrow, his clothes were so old. Billy stopped him and said, "How much boot will you take and trade clothes with me?”

 

"No jokes about my ragged clothes, or you may feel the weight of my stick,” said the ragged man.

But Billy let him know that he was in earnest. So they traded clothes and Billy gave the ragged man boot.

Billy started off to the palace with the ragged clothes on his back and a stick in his hand. When he got there everybody was crowding and pushing to get a chance to try the shoe on. But it fitted nobody.

Then Billy said, "Let me try it.” All the people laughed and shoved him back, because he was so ragged. But the princess told them to let him try on the shoe. Very soon they all quit laughing, for the shoe fitted Billy exactly.

So Billy married the princess and the wedding lasted nine days, and nine hours, and nine minutes, and nine seconds, and they lived happy for ever after.

Adapted from Seumas McManus

 

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I don't like to say this is considered "an Irish Cinderella" until after I tell it. They certainly fit in a lot beyond the shoe fitting Billy. 

 

While telling Irish stories, why not try adding green food coloring to a vase of water? After the color is mixed into the water, place white flowers into the water. In minutes, the flowers will be transformed into vibrant, green flowers. 

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This is part of a series of postings of stories under the category, “Keeping the Public in Public Domain.” The idea behind Public Domain was to preserve our cultural heritage after the authors and their immediate heirs were compensated. I feel strongly current copyright law delays this intent on works of the 20^th century. My own library of folklore includes so many books within the Public Domain I decided to share stories from them. I hope you enjoy discovering them.

At the same time, my own involvement in storytelling regularly creates projects requiring research as part of my sharing stories with an audience.  Whenever that research needs to be shown here, the publishing of Public Domain stories will not occur that week.  This is a return to my regular posting of a research project here.  (Don't worry, this isn't dry research, my research is always geared towards future storytelling to an audience.)  Response has convinced me that "Keeping the Public in Public Domain" should continue along with my other postings as often as I can manage it.

See the sidebar for other Public Domain story resources I recommend on the page “Public Domain Story Resources."