The Talking Thrush Part 20

"One old Woman, in a fix, Made me go and gather sticks; Then she gave me, for the sake Of the fuel, one sweet cake.

Potter's son ate that, and he Gave a pot instead to me.

Since to you I gave that pot, Give me b.u.t.ter, will you not?"

The wife of the Cowherd was much pleased with this song, as she was fond of music. "If your kindness," said she, "had not already earned the b.u.t.ter, your pretty song would be worth it." Then she gave him a good lump of b.u.t.ter.

Off went the Monkey in high glee, capering along with the lump of b.u.t.ter wrapped up in a leaf. As he went, he came to another place, where a Cowherd was grazing his kine. The Cowherd was sitting down at that moment, and enjoying his dinner, which consisted of a hunk of dry bread.

"Why do you eat dry bread, Mr. Cowherd?" asked the Monkey. "Are you fasting?"

"I am eating dry bread," quoth the Cowherd, "because I have nothing to eat with it."

"What do you say to this?" said the Monkey, cutting a caper, and offering to the Cowherd his lump of b.u.t.ter, wrapped up in a leaf.

"Ah," said the Cowherd, "prime." Not another word said he, but spread the b.u.t.ter upon his dry bread, and set to, with much relish.

The Monkey sat on his tail, and watched the Cowherd eating his meal.

When the meal was eaten, up jumped the Monkey, and began capering and dancing, hopping and skipping, round and round the herd of kine.

"Ah," said the b.u.mpkin, "what are you a-doing that for?" The b.u.mpkin was so ignorant that he thought the Monkey wanted to bewitch his cattle, and dry up all their milk.

The Monkey went on with his skips and capers, and as he capered, he sang this ditty:--

"One old Woman, in a fix, Made me go and get her sticks; Then she gave me, for the sake Of the fuel, one sweet cake.

Potter's son the sweet cake got, Gave me, in return, one pot.

Cow-wife had the pot, and she b.u.t.ter gave instead to me.

This I gave to you just now: Will you give me, please, one cow?"

"Ah," said the b.u.mpkin, "'spose I must." He was afraid of the Monkey's spells, and so he gave him a cow.

Away capered the Monkey, in high glee, leading his cow by a string. "I am indeed getting on in the world," said he.

By-and-by, what should he see coming along the road, but the King himself. The King was fastened to the shafts of a cart, which he was slowly dragging along; and jogging by the side of this cart was an ox; and upon the ox sat the Queen. This King had very simple tastes, and so had the Queen.

"O King," said the Monkey, "why are you dragging your cart with your own royal hands?"

"This is the reason, O Monkey!" said the King. "My ox died in the forest, and I drag the cart because this cart will not drag itself."

"Come, sire," said the Monkey, "I don't like to see a King doing draught-work. Take this cow of mine, and welcome."

"Thank you, good and faithful Monkey," said the King. He mopped his brow, and yoked in the cow.

The Monkey began to dance and caper, jump and skip, round the Queen.

"What is the matter, worthy Monkey?" asked the King.

The Monkey began his ditty:--

"One old Woman, in a fix, Made me go and gather sticks; Then she gave me, for the sake Of the fuel, one sweet cake.

Potter's son the sweet cake got, Gave me in its place, one pot.

Cow-wife had the pot, and she b.u.t.ter gave instead to me.

b.u.mpkin ate the b.u.t.ter, then Paid me with this cow again.

Keep the cow, but don't be mean: All I ask for, is the Queen."

This seemed reasonable enough, so the King gave his Queen to the Monkey.

Away went the Monkey, capering along, and the Queen walked after (you see the King could not part with his ox as well as the Queen).

By-and-by they came to a Man sewing a b.u.t.ton on to his s.h.i.+rt.

"Why, Man," said the Monkey, "why do you sew on your own b.u.t.tons?"

"Because my wife is dead," said the Man.

"Here is a nice wife for you," said the Monkey. He gave the Queen to the Man. The Monkey then began his capers again, but all he could find to caper about, was a drum.

"You may have that drum, if you like," said the Man. "I only kept it because its voice reminded me of my wife, and now I have another."

"Thank you, thank you!" said the Monkey. "Now I am rich indeed!" Then he began to beat upon the drum, and sang:--

"One old Woman, in a fix, Made me go and gather sticks; Then she gave me, for the sake Of the fuel, one sweet cake.

Potter's son the sweet cake got, Gave me in its place, one pot.

Cow-wife had the pot, and she b.u.t.ter gave instead to me.

b.u.mpkin ate the b.u.t.ter, then Gave a cow to me again.

King took cow, but was not mean, For he paid me with a Queen.

Now I have a drum, that's worth More than any drum on earth.

You are worth a queen, my drum!

Rub-a-dub-dub, dhum dhum dhum!"

So the Monkey capered away into the forest in high glee, beating upon his drum, and he has never been heard of since.

The Monkey's Rebuke

IN a certain village, whose name I know (but I think I will keep it to myself), in this village, I say, there was once a Milkman. I daresay you know that a Milkman is a man who sells milk; but I have seen milkmen who also sell water. That is to say, they put water in the milk which they sell, and so they get more money than they deserve. This was the sort of Milkman that my story tells of; and he was worse than the more part of such tricksters, since he actually filled his pans only half full of milk, and the other half all water. The people of that village were so simple and honest, that they never dreamt their Milkman was cheating them; and if the milk did seem thin, all they did was to shake their heads, and say, "What a lot of water the cows do drink this hot weather!"

By watering his milk, this Milkman got together a great deal of money: ten pounds it was, all in sixpences, because the villagers always bought sixpennyworth of milk a day.

When the Milkman had got ten pounds, that is to say, no less than four hundred silver sixpences, he thought he would go and try his tricks in another place, where there were more people to be cheated. So he put his four hundred silver sixpences in a bag, and set out.

[Ill.u.s.tration]

After travelling a while, he came to a pond. He sat down by the pond to eat his breakfast, laying his bag of sixpences by his side; and after breakfast, he proceeded to wash his hands in the pond.

Now it so happened that this was the very pond where the Milkman came to water his milk. He came all this way out of the village, because he did not want to be seen by the people of the village. But there was one who saw him; and that was a Monkey, who lived in a tree which overhung the pond. Many a time and oft had this Monkey seen the Milkman pour water into the milk-cans, chuckling over the profit he was to make. This was a very worthy and well-educated Monkey, and he knew just as well as you or I know, that if you sell milk, you should put no water in it. When the Man stooped down to wash his hands in the pond, quietly, quietly down came the Monkey, swinging himself from branch to branch with his tail.

Down he came to the ground, and picked up the bag of sixpences, and then up again to his perch in the tree.