Coat o' Clay
Once
on a time, in the parts of Lindsey, there lived a wise woman. Some said
she was a witch, but they said it in a whisper, lest she should
overhear and do them a mischief, and truly it was not a thing one could
be sure of, for she was never known to hurt any one, which, if she were
a witch, she would have been sure to do. But she could tell you what
your sickness was, and how to cure it with herbs, and she could mix
rare possets that would drive the pain out of you in a twinkling; and
she could advise you what to do if your cows were ill, or if you'd got
into trouble, and tell the maids whether their sweethearts were likely
to be faithful.
But she was ill-pleased if folks questioned her
too much or too long, and she sore misliked fools. A many came to her
asking foolish things, as was their nature, and to them she never gave
counsel—at least of a kind that could aid them much.
Well, one
day, as she sat at her door paring potatoes, over the stile and up the
path came a tall lad with a long nose and goggle eyes and his hands in
his pockets.
"That's a fool, if ever was one, and a fool's luck
in his face," said the wise woman to herself with a nod of her head,
and threw a potato skin over her left shoulder to keep off ill-chance.
"Good-day, missis," said the fool. "I be come to see thee."
"So thou art," said the wise woman; "I see that. How's all in thy folk this year?"
"Oh, fairly," answered he. "But they say I be a fool."
"Ay, so thou art," nodded she, and threw away a bad potato. "I see that too. But wouldst o' me? I keep no brains for sale."
"Well,
see now. Mother says I'll ne'er be wiser all my born days; but folks
tell us thou canst do everything. Can't thee teach me a bit, so they'll
think me a clever fellow at home?"
"Hout-tout!" said the wise
woman; "thou 'rt a bigger fool than I thought. Nay, I can't teach thee
nought, lad; but I tell thee summat. Thou 'lt be a fool all thy days
till thou gets a coat o' clay; and then thou 'lt know more than me."
"Hi, missis; what sort of a coat's that?" said he.
"That's none o' my business," answered she, "Thou 'st got to find out that."
And she took up her potatoes and went into her house.
The fool took off his cap and scratched his head.
"It's a queer kind of coat to look for, sure-ly," said he, "I never heard of a coat o' clay. But then I be a fool, that's true."
So he walked on till he came to the drain near by, with just a pickle of water and a foot of mud in it.
"Here's
muck," said the fool, much pleased, and he got in and rolled in it
spluttering. "Hi, yi!" said he—for he had his mouth full—"I've got a
coat o' clay now to be sure. I'll go home and tell my mother I'm a wise
man and not a fool any longer." And he went on home.
Presently he came to a cottage with a lass at the door.
"Morning, fool," said she; "hast thou been ducked in the horse-pond?"
"Fool
yourself," said he, "the wise woman says I'll know more 'n she when I
get a coat o' clay, and here it is. Shall I marry thee, lass?"
"Ay," said she, for she thought she'd like a fool for a husband, "when shall it be?"
"I'll come and fetch thee when I've told my mother," said the fool, and he gave her his lucky penny and went on.
When he got home his mother was on the doorstep.
"Mother, I 've got a coat o' clay," said he.
"Coat o' muck," said she; "and what of that?"
"Wise
woman said I'd know more than she when I got a coat o' clay," said he,
"so I down in the drain and got one, and I'm not a fool any longer."
"Very good," said his mother, "now thou canst get a wife."
"Ay," said he, "I'm going to marry so-an'-so."
"What!"
said his mother, "that lass? No, and that thou 'lt not. She's nought
but a brat, with ne'er a cow or a cabbage o' her own."
"But I gave her my luck penny," said the fool.
"Then thou 'rt a bigger fool than ever, for all thy coat o' clay!" said his mother, and banged the door in his face.
"Dang it!" said the fool, and scratched his head, "that's not the right sort o' clay sure-ly."
So back he went to the highroad and sat down on the bank of the river close by, looking at the water, which was cool and clear.
By-and-by
he fell asleep, and before he knew what he was about—plump—he rolled
off into the river with a splash, and scrambled out, dripping like a
drowned rat.
"Dear, dear," said he, "I'd better go and get dry
in the sun." So up he went to the highroad, and lay down in the dust,
rolling about so that the sun should get at him all over.
Presently,
when he sat up and looked down at himself, he found that the dust had
caked into a sort of skin over his wet clothes till you could not see
an inch of them, they were so well covered. "Hi, yi!" said he, "here's
a coat o' clay ready made, and a fine one. See now, I'm a clever fellow
this time sure-ly, for I've found what I wanted without looking for it!
Wow, but it's a fine feeling to be so smart!"
And he sat and scratched his head, and thought about his own cleverness.
But
all of a sudden, round the corner came the squire on horseback, full
gallop, as if the boggles were after him; but the fool had to jump,
even though the squire pulled his horse back on his haunches.
"What the dickens," said the squire, "do you mean by lying in the middle of the road like that?"
"Well,
master," said the fool, "I fell into the water and got wet, so I lay
down in the road to get dry; and I lay down a fool an' got up a wise
man."
"How's that?" said the squire.
So the fool told him about the wise woman and the coat o' clay.
"Ah,
ah!" laughed the squire, "whoever heard of a wise man lying in the
middle of the highroad to be ridden over? Lad, take my word for it, you
are a bigger fool than ever," and he rode on laughing.
"Dang
it!" said the fool, as he scratched his head. "I've not got the right
sort of coat yet, then." And he choked and spluttered in the dust that
the squire's horse had raised.
So on he went in a melancholy mood till he came to an inn, and the landlord at his door smoking.
"Well, fool," said he, "thou 'rt fine and dirty."
"Ay," said the fool, "I be dirty outside an' dusty in, but it's not the right thing yet."
And he told the landlord all about the wise woman and the coat o' clay.
"Hout-tout!"
said the landlord, with a wink. "I know what's wrong. Thou 'st got a
skin o' dirt outside and all dry dust inside. Thou must moisten it,
lad, with a good drink, and then thou 'lt have a real all-over coat o'
clay."
"Hi," said the fool, "that's a good word."
So down
he sat and began to drink. But it was wonderful how much liquor it took
to moisten so much dust; and each time he got to the bottom of the pot
he found he was still dry. At last he began to feel very merry and
pleased with himself.
"Hi, yi!" said he. "I've got a real coat
o' clay now outside and in—what a difference it do make, to be sure. I
feel another man now—so smart."
And he told the landlord he was
certainly a wise man now, though he couldn't speak over-distinctly
after drinking so much. So up he got, and thought he would go home and
tell his mother she hadn't a fool for a son any more.
But just
as he was trying to get through the inn-door which would scarcely keep
still long enough for him to find it, up came the landlord and caught
him by the sleeve.
"See here, master," said he, "thou hasn't paid for thy score—where's thy money?"
"Haven't any!" said the fool, and pulled out his pockets to show they were empty.
"What!" said the landlord, and swore; "thou 'st drunk all my liquor and haven't got nought to pay for it with!"
"Hi!"
said the fool. "You told me to drink so as to get a coat o' clay; but
as I'm a wise man now I don't mind helping thee along in the world a
bit, for though I'm a smart fellow I'm not too proud to my friends."
"Wise
man! smart fellow!" said the landlord, "and help me along, wilt thee?
Dang it! thou 'rt the biggest fool I ever saw, and it's I'll help thee
first—out o' this!"
And he kicked him out of the door into the road and swore at him.
"Hum,"
said the fool, as he lay in the dust, "I'm not so wise as I thought. I
guess I'll go back to the wise woman and tell her there's a screw loose
somewhere."
So up he got and went along to her house, and found her sitting at the door.
"So thou 'rt come back," said she, with a nod. "What dost thou want with me now?"
So he sat down and told her how he'd tried to get a coat o' clay, and he wasn't any wiser for all of it.
"No," said the wise woman, "thou 'rt a bigger fool than ever, my lad."
"So they all say," sighed the fool; "but where can I get the right sort of coat o' clay, then, missis?"
"When
thou 'rt done with this world, and thy folk put thee in the ground,"
said the wise woman. "That's the only coat o' clay as 'll make such as
thee wise, lad. Born a fool, die a fool, and be a fool thy life long,
and that's the truth!"
And she went into the house and shut the door.
"Dang it," said the fool. "I must tell my mother she was right after all, and that she'll never have a wise man for a son!"
And he went off home.
| All English Fairy Tales
THE STORY OF THE THREE LITTLE PIGS
JACK AND THE BEANSTALK
JACK THE GIANT-KILLER
THE PIED PIPER OF FRANCHVILLE
THE STORY OF THE THREE BEARS
TOM TIT TOT
THE THREE SILLIES
THE ROSE-TREE
THE OLD WOMAN AND HER PIG
HOW JACK WENT TO SEEK HIS FORTUNE
MR. VINEGAR
NIX NOUGHT NOTHING
JACK HANNAFORD
BINNORIE
MOUSE AND MOUSER
CAP O' RUSHES
TEENY-TINY
THE MASTER AND HIS PUPIL
TITTY MOUSE ND TATTY MOUSE
JACK AND HIS GOLDEN SNUFF-BOX
HENNY-PENNY
CHILDE ROWLAND
MOLLY WHUPPIE
THE RED ETTIN
MASTER OF ALL MASTERS.
THE GOLDEN ARM
THE HISTORY OF TOM THUMB
MR. FOX
LAZY JACK
JOHNNY-CAKE
EARL MAR'S DAUGHTER
MR. MIACCA
WHITTINGTON AND HIS CAT
THE STRANGE VISITOR
THE LAIDLY WORM OF SPINDLESTON HEUGH
THE CAT AND THE MOUSE.
THE FISH AND THE RING.
THE MAGPIE'S NEST
KATE CRACKERNUTS
THE CAULD LAD OF HILTON
THE ASS, THE TABLE, AND THE STICK
FAIRY OINTMENT
THE WELL OF THE WORLD'S END.
THE THREE HEADS OF THE WELL |