CLOUSTON
BOOK
OF
NOODLES
GR
950
C65

IVERSITY OF M
NIVERSITY OF MICE
THE
THE UNIV
སྟག་
TES SCIENTIA
1817
4 MICHIGAN
LIBRARIES
&
4
T

The Book-Lover's Library.
Edited by
Henry B. Wheatley, F.S.A.
THE
BOOK OF NOODLES:
STORIES OF SIMPLETONS; OR,
FOOLS AND THEIR FOLLIES.

walls expander
ALOUSTON,
W
Author of" Popular Tales and Fictions: their Migrations and
Transformations."
"Excellent! Why, this is the best fooling when all
is done."-Twelfth Night.
LONDON:
ELLIOT STOCK, 62, PATERNOSTER ROW.
1888.

The Book-Lover's Library.
EDITED BY HENRY B, WHEATLEY, F.S.A.
THE PREceding VOLUMES IN THIS SERIES
ARE-
HOW TO FORM A LIBRARY. BY HENRY B.
WHEATLEY, F.S.A.
THE DEDICATION OF BOOKS.
Friend. By HENRY B. WHEATLEY, F.S.A.
MODERN
BOOKS.
METHODS
To Patron and
OF ILLUSTRATING
THE LITERATURE of LOCAL INSTITUTIONS.
By G. L. GOMME, F.S.A.
THE ENEMIES OF BOOKS. By WILLIAM
BLADES.
THE STORY OF SOME FAMOUS BOOKS. By
EDWARD SAUNDERS.
OLD COOKERY BOOKS AND ANCIENT
CUISINE. By W. C. HAZLITT.
GLEANINGS IN OLD GARDEN LITERATURE.
By W. C. HAZLITT.
yulab co
M
Ro-classed d
TO MY DEAR FRIEND
DAVID ROSS, LL.D., M.A., B.Sc.,
PRINCIPAL OF THE
CHURCH OF SCOTLAND TRAINING COLLEGE,
GLASGOW,
THIS COLLECTION OF FACETIA
IS DEDICATED.
GR.
950
F6
C65
005 544 195

PREFACE.

IKE popular tales in general, the
original sources of stories of
simpletons are for the most
part not traceable. The old Greek jests
of this class had doubtless been floating
abcut among different peoples long
before they were reduced to writing.
The only tales and apologues of
noodles or stupid folk to which an
approximate date can be assigned are
those found in the early Buddhist books,
especially in the "Játakas," or Birth-stories,
which are said to have been related to
his disciples by Gautama, the illustrious
founder of Buddhism, as incidents which
occurred to himself and others in former
births, and were afterwards put into a
literary form by his followers. Many
viii
Preface.
of the "Játakas" relate to silly men and
women, and also to stupid animals, the
latter being, of course, men re-born as
beasts, birds, or reptiles. But it is not
to be supposed that all are of Buddhist
invention; some had doubtless been cur-
rent for ages among the Hindús before
Gautama promulgated his mild doctrines.
Scholars are, however, agreed that these
fictions date at latest from a century prior
to the Christian era.
Of European noodle-stories, as of other
folk-tales, it may be said that, while they
are numerous, yet the elements of which
they are composed are comparatively very
few. The versions domiciled in dif-
ferent countries exhibit little originality,
farther than occasional modifications in
accordance with local manners and cus-
toms. Thus for the stupid Bráhman of
Indian stories the blundering, silly son
is often substituted in European variants;
for the brose in Norse and Highland tales
we find polenta or macaroni in Italian
and Sicilian versions. The identity of
Preface.
ix
incidents in the noodle-stories of Europe
with those in what are for us their oldest
forms, the Buddhist and Indian books, is
very remarkable, particularly so in the
case of Norse popular fictions, which,
there is every reason to believe, were
largely introduced through the Mon-
golians; and the similarity of Italian and
West Highland stories to those of Iceland
and Norway would seem to indicate the
influence of the Norsemen in the Western
Islands of Scotland and in the south of
Europe.
It were utterly futile to attempt to
trace the literary history of most of the
roodle-stories which appear to have been
current throughout European countries for
many generations, since they have prac-
tically none. Soon after the invention
of printing collections of facetiœ were
rapidly multiplied, the compilers taking
their material from oral as well as
written sources, amongst others, from
mediaval collections of "exempla" designed
for the use of preachers and the writings
X
Preface.
""
of the classical authors of antiquity. With
the exception of those in Buddhist works,
it is more than probable that the noodle-
stories which are found among all peoples
never had any other purpose than that
of mere amusement. Who, indeed, could
possibly convert the "witless devices
of the men of Gotham into vehicles of
moral instruction? Only
Only the monkish
writers of the Middle Ages, who even
“spiritualised” tales which, if reproduced
in these days, must be "printed for pri-
vate circulation" !
Yet may the typical noodle of popular
tales “point a moral," after a fashion.
Poor fellow! he follows his instructions
only too literally, and with a firm con-
viction that he is thus doing a very
clever thing. But the consequence is
He practically
almost always ridiculous.
shows the fallacy of the old saw that
"fools learn by experience," for his next
folly is sure to be greater than the last,
in spite of every caution to the contrary.
He is generally very honest, and does
Preface.
xi
everything, like the man in the play,
"with the best intentions." His mind is
incapable of entertaining more than one
idea at a time; but to that he holds fast,
with the tenacity of the lobster's claw:
he cannot be diverted from it until, by
some accident, a fresh idea displaces it;
and so on he goes from one blunder to
another. His blunders, however, which
in the case of an ordinary man would
infallibly result in disaster to himself or
to others, sometimes lead him to un-
expected good fortune. He it is, in fact,
to whom the great Persian poet Sádí
alludes when he says, in his charming
"Gulistán," or Rose Garden, "The al-
chemist died of grief and distress, while
the blockhead found a treasure under
a ruin." Men of intelligence toil pain-
fully to acquire a mere “livelihood";
the noodle stumbles upon great wealth
in the midst of his wildest vagaries.
In brief, he is-in stories, at least-a
standing illustration of the "vanity of
human life" !
xii
Preface.
When
And now a few words as to the history
and design of the following work.
the Folk-lore Society was formed, some
nine years since, the late Mr. W. J.
Thoms, who was one of the leading men
in its formation, promised to edit for the
Society the "Merry Tales of the Mad Men
of Gotham," furnishing notes of analogous
stories, a task which he was peculiarly
qualified to perform. As time passed on,
however, the infirmities of old age doubt-
less rendered the purposed work less and
less attractive to him, and his death, after
a long, useful, and honourable career, left
it still undone. What particular plan he
had sketched out for himself I do not
know; but there can be no doubt that
had he carried it out the results would
have been most valuable. And, since he
did not perform his self-allotted task, his
death is surely a great loss, perhaps an
irreparable loss, to English students of
comparative folk-lore.
More than five years ago, with a view
of urging Mr. Thoms to set about the
Preface.
xiii
work, I offered to furnish him with some
material in the shape of Oriental noodle-
stories; but from a remark in his reply
I feared there would be no need for such
services as I could render him. That fear
has been since realised, and the present
little book is now offered as a humble
substitute for the intended work of Mr.
Thoms, until it is displaced by a more
worthy one.
Since the "Tales of the Men of Gotham
ceased to be reproduced in chap-book
form, the first reprint of the collection
was made in 1840, with an introduction
by Mr. J. O. Halliwell (now Halliwell-
Phillipps); and that brochure is become
almost as scarce as the chap-book copies
themselves: the only copy I have seen
is in the Euing collection in the Glasgow
University Library. The tales were next
reprinted in the "Shakespeare Jest-books,"
so ably edited and annotated by Mr. W.
Carew Hazlitt, in three volumes (1864).
They were again reproduced in Mr. John
xiv
Preface.
1
Ashton's "Chap-books of the Eighteenth
Century" (1882).
It did not enter into the plan of any
of these editors to cite analogues or
variants of the Gothamite Tales; nor,
on the other hand, was it any part of
my design in the present little work to
reproduce the Tales in the same order
as they appear in the printed collection.
Yet all that are worth reproducing in a
work of this description will be found in
the chapters entitled "Gothamite Drol-
leries," of which they form, indeed, but
a small portion.
My design has been to bring together,
from widely scattered sources, many of
which are probably unknown or inaccess-
ible to ordinary readers, the best of this
class of humorous narratives, in their
oldest existing Buddhist and Greek forms
as well as in the forms in which they are
current among the people in the present
day. It will, perhaps, be thought by
some that a portion of what is here
presented might have been omitted with-
Preface.
XV
out great loss; but my aim has been not
only to compile an amusing story-book,
but to illustrate to some extent the
migrations of popular fictions from coun-
try to country. In this design I was
assisted by Captain R. C. Temple, one
of the editors of the "Indian Antiquary,"
and one of the authors of "Wide-awake
Stories," from the Panjab and Kashmir,
who kindly directed me to sources whence I
have drawn some curious Oriental paral-
lels to European stories of simpletons.
W. A. C.
*** While my "Popular Tales and Fictions"
was passing through the press, in 1886, I made
reference (in vol. i., p. 65) to the present work, as
it was purposed to be published that year, but Mr.
Stock has had unavoidably to defer its publication
till now.
W. A. C.
GLASGOW, March, 1888.
CONTENTS
CHAPTER I.
ANCIENT GRECIAN NOODLES
CHAPTER II.
GOTHAMITE DROLLERIES:
Reputed communities of stupids in different
countries-The noodles of Norfolk: their
lord's bond; the dog and the honey;
the fool and his sack of meal-Tales of
the Mad Men of Gotham: Andrew Borde
not the author-The two Gothamites at
Notts Bridge-The hedging of the cuckoo
-How the men of Gotham paid their
rents - The twelve fishers and the
courtier-The Gúrú Paramartan—The
brothers of Bakki-Drowning the eel-
The Gothamite and his cheese-The
trivet-The buzzard-The gossips at
PAGE
1-15
xviii
Contents.
the alehouse-The cheese on the high-
way-The wasp's nest-Casting sheep's
eyes-The devil in the meadow-The
priest of Gotham-The "boiling" river
The moon a green cheese - The
"carles of Austwick "-The Wiltshire
farmer and his pigs
CHAPTER III.
GOTHAMITE DROLLERIES (continued):
PAGE
16-55
The men of Schilda: the dark council-house;
the mill-stone; the cat Sinhalese
noodles: the man who observed Bud-
dha's five precepts-The fool and the
Rámáyana-The two Arabian noodles-
The alewife and her hens-"Sorry he
has gone to heaven "-The man of Hama
and the man of Hums-Bizarrures of
the Sieur Gaulard-The rustic and the
dog
56-80
CHAPTER IV.
GOTHAMITE DROLLERIES (continued) •
The simpleton and the sharpers-The school-
master's lady-love-The judge and the
thieves-The calf's head-The Kashmírí
and his store of rice-The Turkish
Contents.
xix
noodle: the kerchief; the caftan; the
wolf's tail; the right hand and the left;
the stolen cheese; the moon in the well
-The good dreams-Chinese noodles :
the lady and her husband; the stolen
spade; the relic-hunter-Indian noodles:
the fools and the mosquitoes; the fools
and the palm-trees; the servants and
the trunks; taking care of the door; the
fool and the aloes-wood; the fool and
the cotton; the cup lost in the sea; the
fool and the thieves; the simpletons who
ate the buffalo; the princess who was
made to grow; the washerman's ass
transformed; the foolish herdsman-
Noodle-stories moralised-The brothers
and their heritage Sowing roasted
sesame
PAGE
81-120
THE SILLY SON:
CHAPTER V.
Simple Simon-The Norse booby-- The
Russian booby-The Japanese noodle-
The Arabian idiot-The English silly
son-The Sinhalese noodle with the
robbers-The Italian booby-The Arab
simpleton and his cow-The Russian
fool and the birch-tree-The silly wife
XX
Contents
deceived by her husband-The Indian
fool on the tree-branch-The Indian
monk who believed he was dead-The
Florentine fool and the young men-
The Indian silly son as a fisher; as a
messenger; killing a mosquito; as a
pupil-The best of the family-The
doctor's apprentice
PAGE
121-170
CHAPTER VI.
THE FOUR SIMPLE BRAHMANS:
Introduction
Story of the first Brahman
Story of the second Bráhman
Story of the third Bráhman .
Story of the fourth Brahman
Conclusion
171
. 176
. 178
181
. 185
. 190
CHAPTER VII.
THE THREE GREAT NOODLES
APPENDIX.
. 191-218
JACK OF DOVER'S QUEST OF THE FOOL OF
ALL FOOLS
219

THE BOOK OF NOODLES.
1
46
CHAPTER I
ANCIENT GRECIAN NOODLES.

LD as the days of Hierokles!" is the
exclamation of the "classical "
reader on hearing a well-worn
jest; while, on the like occasion,
that of the "general" reader—a comprehen-
sive term, which, doubtless, signifies one who
knows "small Latin and less Greek"-is,
that it is "a Joe Miller;" both implying that
the critic is too deeply versed in joke-ology to
be imposed upon, to have an old jest palmed
on him as new, or as one made by a living
wit. That the so-called jests of Hierokles
are old there can be no doubt whatever; that
they were collected by the Alexandrian sage
of that name is more than doubtful; while it
is certain that several of them are much older
than the time in which he flourished, namely,
the fifth century: it is very possible that some
I
2
The Book of Noodles.
•
may date even as far back as the days of
the ancient Egyptians! It is perhaps hardly
necessary to say that honest Joseph Miller,
the comedian, was not the compiler of the
celebrated jest-book with which his name
is associated; that it was, in fact, simply a
bookseller's trick to entitle a heterogeneous
collection of jokes, "quips, and cranks, and
quiddities," Joe Miller's Jests; or, The Wits
Vade Mecum. And when one speaks of a
jest as being "a Joe Miller," he should only
mean that it is "familiar as household words,"
not that it is of contemptible antiquity,
albeit many of the jokes in "Joe Miller" are,
at least, "as old as Hierokles," such, for
instance, as that of the man who trained his
horse to live on a straw per diem, when it
suddenly died, or that of him who had a
house to sell and carried about a brick as
a specimen of it.
The collection of facetiæ ascribed to
Hierokles, by whomsoever it was made, is
composed of very short anecdotes of the say-
ings and doings of pedants, who are repre-
sented as noodles, or simpletons. In their
existing form they may not perhaps be of
nuch earlier date than the ninth century.
They seem to have come into the popular
facetiæ of Europe through the churchmen of
the Middle Ages, and, after having circulated
Ancient Grecian Noodles.
3
long orally, passed into literature, whence,
like other kinds of tales, they once more
returned to the people. We find in them the
indirect originals of some of the bulls and
blunders which have in modern times been
credited to Irishmen and Scotch Highlanders,
and the germs also, perhaps, of some stories
of the Gothamite type: as brave men lived
before Agamemnon, so, too, the race of
Gothamites can boast of a very ancient pedi-
gree! By far the greater number of them,
however, seem now pithless and pointless,
whatever they may have been considered in
ancient days, when, perhaps, folk found food
for mirth in things which utterly fail to tickle
Our sense of humour" in these double-
distilled days. Of the 'Aoreîa, or facetiæ, of
Hierokles, twenty-eight only are appended
to his Commentary on Pythagoras and the
fragments of his other works edited, with
Latin translations, by Needham, and pub-
lished at Cambridge in 1709. A much larger
collection, together with other Greek jests—of
the people of Abdera, Sidonia, Cumæ, etc.—
has been edited by Eberhard, under the title
of Philogelos Hieraclis et Philagrii Facetiæ,
which was published at Berlin in 1869.
"
In attempting to classify the best of
these relics of ancient wit-or witlessness,
rather it is often difficult to decide whether
4
The Book of Noodles.
a particular jest is of the Hibernian bull, or
blunder, genus or an example of that droll
stupidity which is the characteristic of noodles
or simpletons. In the latter class, however,
one need not hesitate to place the story of the
men of Cumæ, who were expecting shortly to
be visited by a very eminent man, and having
but one bath in the town, they filled it afresh,
and placed an open grating in the middle, in
order that half the water should be kept clean
for his sole use.
But we at once recognise our conventional
Irishman in the pedant who, on going abroad,
was asked by a friend to buy him two slave-
boys of fifteen years each, and replied, "If
I cannot find such a pair, I will bring you one
of thirty years; and in the fellow who was
quarrelling with his father, and said to him,
"Don't you know how much injury you have
done me? Why, had you not been born, I
should have inherited my grandfather's estate;'
also in the pedant who heard that a raven
lived two hundred years, and bought one
that he should ascertain the fact for himself.
"
Among Grecian Gothamites, again, was the
hunter who was constantly disturbed by
dreams of a boar pursuing him, and procured
dogs to sleep with him. Another, surely, was
the man of Cuma who wished to sell some
clothes he had stolen, and smeared them with
Ancient Grecian Noodles.
นา
5
pitch, so that they should not be recognised'
by the owner. They were Gothamites, too,
those men of Abdera who punished a runa-
way ass for having got into the gymnasium
and upset the olive oil. Having brought all the
asses of the town together, as a caution, they
flogged the delinquent ass before his fellows.
Some of the jests of Hierokles may be con-
sidered either as witticisms or witless sayings
of noodles; for example, the story of the
man who recovered his health though the
doctor had sworn he could not live, and after-
wards, being asked by his friends why he
seemed to avoid the doctor whenever they
were both likely to meet, he replied, "He
told me I should not live, and now I am
ashamed to be alive;" or that of the pedant
who said to the doctor, "Pardon me for not
having been sick so long;" or this, "I
dreamt that I saw and spoke to you last
night : quoth the other, "By the gods, I
was so busy, I did not hear you.'
""
""
But our friend the Gothamite reappears in
the pedant who saw some sparrows on a tree,
and went quietly under it, stretched out his
robe, and shook the tree, expecting to catch
the sparrows as they fell, like ripe fruit;
again, in the pedant who lay down to sleep,
and, finding he had no pillow, bade his servant
place a jar under his head, after stuffing it
6
The Book of Noodles.
>>
full of feathers to render it soft; again, in
the cross-grained fellow who had some honey
for sale, and a man coming up to him and
inquiring the price, he upset the jar, and then
replied, "You may shed my heart's blood like
that before I tell such as you; and again,
in the man of Abdera who tried to hang him-
self, when the rope broke, and he hurt his
head; but after having the wound dressed by
the doctor, he went and accomplished his
purpose. And we seem to have a trace of
them in the story of the pedant who dreamt
that a nail had pierced his foot, and in the
morning he bound it up; when he told a
friend of his mishap, he said, "Why do you
sleep barefooted ? ”
The following jest is spread-mutatis
mutandis—over all Europe: A pedant, a bald
man, and a barber, making a journey in com-
pany, agreed to watch in turn during the
night. It was the barber's watch first. He
propped up the sleeping pedant, and shaved
his head, and when his time came, awoke him.
When the pedant felt his head bare, "What
a fool is this barber," he cried, "for he has
roused the bald man instead of me!"
A variant of this story is related of a raw
Highlander, fresh from the heather, who put
up at an inn in Perth, and shared his bed
with a negro. Some coffee-room jokers hav-
Ancient Grecian Noodles.
7
ing blackened his face during the night, when
he was called, as he had desired, very early
next morning, and got up, he saw the reflection
of his face in the mirror, and exclaimed in
a rage, "Tuts, tuts! The silly body has
waukened the wrang man."
In connection with these two stories may
be cited the following, from a Persian jest-
book: A poor wrestler, who had passed all
his life in forests, resolved to try his fortune
in a great city, and as he drew near it he
observed with wonder the crowds on the road,
and thought, "I shall certainly not be able to
know myself among so many people if I have
not something about me that the others have
not." So he tied a pumpkin to his right leg,
and, thus decorated, entered the town. A
young wag, perceiving the simpleton, made
friends with him, and induced him to spend
the night at his house.
the joker removed the
and tied it to his own, and then lay down
again. In the morning, when the poor fellow
awoke and found the pumpkin on his com-
panion's leg, he called to him, "Hey! get up,
for I am perplexed in my mind. Who am I,
and who are you? If I am myself, why is
the pumpkin on your leg? And if you are
yourself, why 3 the pumpkin not on my leg?"
While he was asleep,
pumpkin from his leg
Modern counterparts of the following jest
8
The Book of Noodles.
are not far to seek: Quoth a man to a pedant,
"The slave I bought of you has died." Re-
joined the other, "By the gods, I do assure
you that he never once played me such a
trick while I had him.” The old Greek
pedant is transformed into an Irishman, in
our collections of facetiæ, who applied to a
farmer for work. "I'll have nothing to do
with you," said the farmer, "for the last five
Irishmen I had all died on my hands." Quoth
Pat, "Sure, sir, I can bring you characters
from half a dozen gentlemen I've worked for
that I never did such a thing." And the jest
is thus told in an old translation of Les Contes
Facetieux de Sieur Gaulard: "Speaking of
one of his Horses which broake his Neck at
the descent of a Rock, he said, Truly it was
one of the handsomest and best Curtalls in
all the Country; he neuer shewed me such
a trick before in all his life."
Equally familiar is the jest of the pedant who
was looking out for a place to prepare a tomb
¹ Etienne Tabourot, the author of this amusing
little book, who was born at Dijon in 1549 and
died in 1590, is said to have written the tales in
ridicule of the inhabitants of Franche Comte, who
were then the subjects of Spain, and reputed to
be stupid and illiterate. From a manuscript
translation, entitled Bigarrures; or, The Pleasant
and Witlesse and Simple Speeches of the Lord
Gaulard of Burgundy, purporting to be made by
Ancient Grecian Noodles.
9
for himself, and on a friend indicating what
he thought to be a suitable spot, "Very true,"
said the pedant, "but it is unhealthy." And
we have the prototype of a modern "Irish"
story in the following: A pedant sealed a jar
of wine, and his slaves perforated it below
and drew off some of the liquor. He was
astonished to find his wine disappear while
the seal remained intact. A friend, to whom
he had communicated the affair, advised him
to look and ascertain if the liquor had not
been drawn off from below. "Why, you
fool," said he, "it is not the lower, but the
upper, portion that is going off."
It was a Greek pedant who stood before a
mirror and shut his eyes that he might know
how he looked when asleep-a jest which
reappears in Taylor's Wit and Mirth in this
form: "A wealthy monsieur in France (hauing
profound reuenues and a shallow braine) was
told by his man that he did continually gape
"J. B., of Charterhouse," probably about the
year 1660, in the possession of Mr. Frederick
William Cosens, London, fifty copies, edited,
with a preface, by "A. S." (Alexander Smith),
were printed at Glasgow in 1884. I am indebted
to the courtesy of my friend Mr. F. T. Barrett,
Librarian of the Mitchell Library, Glasgow, for
directing my attention to this curious work, a
copy of which is among the treasures of that
already important institution.
ΙΟ
The Book of Noodles.
in his sleepe, at which he was angry with
his man, saying he would not belieue it. His
man verified it to be true; his master said
that he would neuer belieue any that told
him so, except (quoth hee) I chance to see it
with mine owne eyes; and therefore I will
have a great Looking glasse at my bed's feet
for the purpose to try whether thou art a lying
knaue or not."
>> 1
Not unlike some of our "Joe Millers" is the
following: A citizen of Cumæ, on an ass,
passed by an orchard, and seeing a branch of
a fig-tree loaded with delicious fruit, he laid
hold of it, but the ass went on, leaving him
1 "Wit and Mirth. Chargeably collected out of
Taverns, Ordinaries, Innes, Bowling-greenes and
Allyes, Alehouses, Tobacco-shops, Highwayes,
and Water-passages. Made up and fashioned
into Clinches, Bulls, Quirkes, Yerkes, Quips,
and Jerkes. Apothegmatically bundled vp and
garbled at the request of John Garrett's Ghost."
(1635)-such is the elaborate title of the collec-
tion of jests made by John Taylor, the Water
Poet, which owes very little to preceding English
jest-books. The above story had, however, been
told previously in the Bigarrures of the Sieur
Gaulard: "His cousine Dantressesa reproued
him one day that she had found him sleeping in
an ill posture with his mouth open, to order
which for the tyme to come he commanded his
seruant to hang a looking glasse upon the cur-
taine at his Bed's feet, that he might henceforth
see if he had a good posture in his sleep."
Ancient Grecian Noodles.
I I
suspended. Just then the gardener came up,
and asked him what he did there. The man
replied, "I fell off the ass."-An analogue to
this drollery is found in an Indian story-book,
entitled Katha Manjari: One day a thief
climbed up a cocoa-nut tree in a garden to
steal the fruit. The gardener heard the noise,
and while he was running from his house,
giving the alarm, the thief hastily descended
from the tree. "Why were you up that
tree?" asked the gardener. The thief re-
plied, "My brother, I went up to gather
grass for my calf." "Ha! ha! is there grass,
then, on a cocoa-nut tree?" said the gardener.
"No," quoth the thief; "but I did not know;
therefore I came down again.”—And we have
a variant of this in the Turkish jest of the
fellow who went into a garden and pulled up
carrots, turnips, and other kinds of vegetables,
some of which he put into a sack, and some
into his bosom. The gardener, coming sud-
denly on the spot, laid hold of him, and said,
"What are you seeking here?" The simple-
ton replied, "For some days past a great
wind has been blowing, and that wind blew
me hither." "But who pulled up these vege-
tables?" "As the wind blew very violently,
it cast me here and there; and whatever I laid
hold of in the hope of saving myself remained
in my hands." "Ah," said the gardener,
1
12
The Book of Noodles.
"but who filled this sack with them ?" "Well,
that is the very question I was about to ask
myself when you came up."
The propensity with which Irishmen are
credited of making ludicrous bulls is said to
have its origin, not from any lack of intelli-
gence, but rather in the fancy of that lively
race, which often does not wait for expression
until the ideas have taken proper verbal form.
Be this as it may, a considerable portion of
the bulls popularly ascribed to Irishmen are
certainly "old as the jests of Hierokles," and
are, moreover, current throughout Europe.
Thus in Hierokles we read that one of twin-
brothers having recently died, a pedant, meet-
ing the survivor, asked him whether it was he
or his brother who had deceased.-Taylor
has this in his Wit and Mirth, and he probably
heard it from some one who had read the
facetious tales of the Sieur Gaulard: “A noble-
man of France (as he was riding) met with
a yeoman of the Country, to whom he said,
My friend, I should know thee. I doe remem-
ber I haue often seene thee. My good Lord,
said the countriman, I am one of your Honers
poore tenants, and my name is T. J. I re-
member better now (said my Lord); there
were two brothers of you, but one is dead; I
pray, which of you doth remaine aliue?"—Mr.
W. Carew Hazlitt, in the notes to his edition
Ancient Grecian Noodles.
13
2
of Taylor's collection (Shakespeare Jest Books,
Third Series), cites a Scotch parallel from
The Laird of Logan: “As the Paisley steamer
came alongside the quay' at the city of the
Seestus, a denizen of St. Mirren's hailed one
of the passengers: 'Jock! Jock! distu
hear, man? Is that you or your brother?" "
And to the same point is the old nursery
rhyme,-
"Ho, Master Teague, what is your story?
I went to the wood, and killed a tory;
I went to the wood, and killed another:
Was it the same, or was it his brother?" 4
We meet with a very old acquaintance in
the pedant who lost a book and sought for it
many days in vain, till one day he chanced to
be eating lettuces, when, turning a corner, he
saw it on the ground. Afterwards meeting a
friend who was lamenting the loss of his
girdle, he said to him, "Don't grieve; buy
some lettuces; eat them at a corner; turn
¹ Only a Liliputian steamer could go up the
"river" Cart!
2 "Seestu" is a nickname for Paisley, the good
folks of that busy town being in the habit of
frequently interjecting, "Seestu?"-i.e., "Seest
thou?"-in their familiar colloquies.
"Tory" is said to be the Erse term for a
robber.
• Halliwell's Nursery Rhymes of England,
vol. iv. of Percy Society's publications.
14
The Book of Noodles.
round it, go a little way on, and you will find
your girdle." But is there anything like this in
"Joe Miller "?—Two lazy fellows were sleep-
ing together, when a thief came, and drawing
down the coverlet made off with it. One of
them was aware of the theft, and said to the
other, "Get up, and run after the man that
has stolen our coverlet." "You blockhead,"
replied his companion, "wait till he comes
back to steal the bolster, and we two will
master him." And has "Joe" got this one?—
A pedant's little boy having died, many friends
came to the funeral, on seeing whom he said,
"I am ashamed to bring out so small a boy
to so great a crowd."
An epigram in the Anthologia may find a
place among noodle stories :
"A blockhead, bit by fleas, put out the light,
And, chuckling, cried, 'Now you can't see to
bite!""
This ancient jest has been somewhat im-
proved in later times. Two Irishmen in the
East Indies, being sorely pestered with mos-
quitoes, kept their light burning in hopes of
scaring them off, but finding this did not
answer, one suggested they should extinguish
the light and thus puzzle their tormentors to
find them, which was done. Presently the
other, observing the light of a firefly in the
Ancient Grecian Noodles. 15
room, called to his bedfellow, "Arrah, Mike,
sure your plan's no good, for, bedad, here's
one of them looking for us wid a lantern!"
Our specimens may be now concluded with
what is probably the best of the old Greek
jokes. The father of a man of Cumæ having
died at Alexandria, the son dutifully took the
body to the embalmers. When he returned
at the appointed time to fetch it away, there
happened to be a number of bodies in the
same place, so he was asked if his father had
any peculiarity by which his body might be
recognised, and the wittol replied, "He had
a cough."


CHAPTER II.
GOTHAMITE DROLLERIES, WITH VARIANTS
AND ANALOGUES.

F
The
T seems to have been common to
most countries, from very ancient
times, for the inhabitants of a
particular district, town, or village
to be popularly regarded as pre-eminently
foolish, arrant noodles or simpletons.
Greeks had their stories of the silly sayings
and doings of the people of Bæotia, Sidonia,
Abdera, etc. Among the Perso-Arabs the
folk of Hums (ancient Emessa) are reputed
to be exceedingly stupid. The Kabaïl, or
wandering tribes of Northern Africa, consider
the Beni Jennad as little better than idiots.
The Schildburgers are the noodles of German
popular tales. In Switzerland the townsmen
of Belmont, near Lausanne, are typical
blockheads. And England has her men of
Gotham"- —a village in Nottinghamshire-who
are credited with most of the noodle stories
which have been current among the people
Gothamite Drolleries.
17
for centuries past, though other places share
to some extent in their not very enviable
reputation: in Yorkshire the "carles" of
Austwick, in Craven; some villages near
Marlborough Downs, in Wiltshire; and in
the counties of Sutherland and Ross, the
people of Assynt.
But long before the men of Gotham were
held up to ridicule as fools, a similar class of
stories had been told of the men of Norfolk,
as we learn from a curious Latin poem,
Descriptio Norfolciensium, written, probably,
near the end of the twelfth century, by a
monk of Peterborough, which is printed in
Wright's Early Mysteries and Other Latin
Poems. This poem sets out with stating
that Cæsar having despatched messengers
throughout the provinces to discover which
were bad and which were good, on their
return they reported Norfolk as the most
sterile, and the people the vilest and different
from all other peoples. Among the stories
related of the stupidity of the men of Norfolk
is the following: Being oppressed by their
lord, they gave him a large sum of money on
condition that he should relieve them from
future burdens, and he gave them his bond to
that effect, sealed with a seal of green wax.
To celebrate this, they all went to the tavern
and got drunk. When it became dark, they
2
18
The Book of Noodles.
had no candle, and were puzzled how to
procure one, till a clever fellow among the
revellers suggested that they should use the
wax seal of the bond for a candle-they
should still have the words of the bond,
which their lord could not repudiate; so they
made the wax seal into a candle, and burned
it while they continued their merry-making.
This exploit coming to the knowledge of their
lord, he reimposes the old burdens on the
rustics, who complain of his injustice, at the
same time producing the bond. The lord
calls a clerk to examine the document, who
pronounces it to be null and void in the
absence of the lord's seal, and so their
oppression continues.
Another story is of a man of Norfolk who
put some honey in a jar, and in his absence
his dog came and ate it all up. When he
returned home and was told of this, he took
the dog and forced him to disgorge the honey,
put it back into the jar, and took it to market.
A customer having examined the honey,
declared it to be putrid. Well," said the
simpleton, "it was in a vessel that was not
very clean."-Wright has pointed out that
this reappears in an English jest-book of
the seventeenth century. "A cleanly woman
of Cambridgeshire made a good store of
butter, and whilst she went a little way out
"
Gothamite Drollerics.
19
of the town about some earnest occasions,
a neighbour's dog came in in the meantime,
and eat up half the butter. Being come
home, her maid told her what the dog had
done, and that she had locked him up in the
dairy-house. So she took the dog and hang'd
him up by the heels till she had squeez'd all
the butter out of his throat again, whilst she,
pretty, cleanly soul, took and put it to the
rest of the butter, and made it up for Cam-
bridge market. But her maid told her she
was ashamed to see such a nasty trick done.
'Hold your peace, you fool!' says she; ''tis
good enough for schollards. Away with it to
market! -Perhaps the original form is
found in the Philogelos Hieraclis et Philagrii
Facetiæ, edited by Eberhard. A citizen of
Cumæ was selling honey. Some one came up
and tasted it, and said that it was all bad.
He replied, "If a mouse had not fallen into
it, I would not sell it."
9" 1
The well-known Gothamite jest of the
man who put a sack of meal on his own
shoulders to save his horse, and then got
on the animal's back and rode home, had
been previously told of a man of Norfolk,
thus:
Coffee House Jests. Fifth edition. London.
1688. P. 36.
20
The Book of Noodles.
"Ad foram ambulant diebus singulis;
Saccum de lolio portant in humeris,
Jumentis ne noccant: bene fatuis,
Ut prolocutiis sum acquantur bestiis."
It reappears in the Bigarrures of the Sieur
Gaulard: "6 Seeing one day his mule charged
with a verie great Portmantle, [he] said to
his groome that was vpon the back of the
mule, thou lasie fellowe, hast thou no pitie
vpon that poore Beast? Take that port-
mantle vpon thine owne shoulders to ease
the poore Beast." And in our own time it is
told of an Irish exciseman with a keg of
smuggled whisky.
How such stories came to be transferred
to the men of Gotham, it were fruitless to
inquire.2 Similar jests have been long
current in other countries of Europe and
throughout Asia, and accident or malice
may have fixed the stigma of stupidity on
any particular spot. There is probably no
ground whatever for crediting the tale of the
origin of the proverb, "As wise as the men
1
¹ See ante, p. 8, note.
2 Fuller, while admitting that "an hundred
fopperies are forged and fathered on the towns-
folk of Gotham," maintains that "Gotham doth
breed as wise people as any which laugh at their
simplicity."
Gothamite Drolleries.
21
of Gotham," although it is reproduced in
Thoroton's Nottinghamshire, i. 42-3:
"
King John, intending to pass through this
place, towards Nottingham, was prevented
by the inhabitants, they apprehending that
the ground over which a king passed was for
ever after to become a public road. The
King, incensed at their proceedings, sent from
his court soon afterwards some of his servants
to inquire of them the reason of their incivility
and ill-treatment, that he might punish them.
The villagers, hearing of the approach of
the King's servants, thought of an expedient
to turn away his Majesty's displeasure from
them. When the messengers arrived at
Gotham, they found some of the inhabitants
engaged in endeavouring to drown an eel in
a pool of water; some were employed in
dragging carts upon a large barn to shade
the wood from the sun; and others were
engaged in hedging a cuckoo, which had
perched itself upon an old bush. In short,
they were all employed in some foolish way
or other, which convinced the King's servants
that it was a village of fools.”
The fooleries ascribed to the men of
Gotham were probably first collected and
printed in the sixteenth century; but that
jests of the "fools of Gotham" were current
among the people long before that period is
22
The Book of Noodles.
evident from a reference to them in the Wid-
kirk Miracle Plays, the only existing MS.
of which was written about the reign of
Henry VI. :
"Foles al sam ;
Sagh I never none so fare
Bote the foles of Gotham
"
The oldest known copy of the Merie Tales
of the Mad Men of Gotam was printed
in 1630, and is preserved in the Bodleian
Library, Oxford. Warton, in his History of
English Poetry, mentions an edition, which
he says was printed about 1568, by Henry
Wikes, but he had never seen it. But Mr.
Halliwell (now Halliwell-Phillipps). in his
Notices of Popular English Histories, cites
one still earlier, which he thinks was probably
printed between 1556 and 1566: "Merie
Tales of the Mad Men of Gotam, gathered
together by A. B., of Phisike Doctour. [colo-
phon:] Imprinted at London, in Flet-Stret,
beneath the Conduit, at the signe of S. John
Evangelist, by Thomas Colwell, n. d. 12º,
black letter." The book is mentioned in A
Briefe, and Necessary Introduction, etc., by
E. D. (8vo, 1572), among a number of other
folk-books: "Bevis of Hampton, Guy of
Warwicke, Arthur of the Round Table,
Huon of Bourdeaux, Oliver of the Castle,
Gothamite Drolleries.
23
The Four Sonnes of Amond, The Witles
Devices of Gargantua, Howleglas, Esop,
Robyn Hoode, Adam Bell, Frier Rushe, The
Fooles of Gotham, and a thousand such
other." And Anthony à Wood, in his
Athena Oxonienses (1691-2), says it was
"printed at London in the time of K.
Hen. 8, in whose reign and after it was
accounted a book full of wit and mirth by
scholars and gentlemen. Afterwards being
often printed, [it] is now sold only on the
stalls of ballad-singers." It is likely that the
estimation in which the book was held "by
scholars and gentlemen was not a little due
"A. B., of Phisike
""
to the supposition that
Doctour," by whom the tales were said to
have been "gathered together," was none
other than Andrew Borde, or Boorde, a
Carthusian friar before the Reformation, one
of the physicians to Henry VIII., a great
traveller, even beyond the bounds of Christen-
dom, a thousand or two and more myles,"
a man of great learning, withal "of fame
facete." For to Borde have the Merie Tales
of the Mad Men of Gotham been generally
ascribed down to our own times. There is,
however, as Dr. F. J. Furnivall justly remarks,
no good external evidence that the book
¹ Collier's Bibliographical Account, etc., vol. i.,
¿P. 327.
24
The Book of Noodles.
1
was written by Borde, while the internal
evidence is against his authorship." In short,
the ascription of its compilation to "A. B., of
Phisike Doctour," was clearly a device of the
printer to sell the book."
The Tales of the Mad Men of Gotham con-
tinued to be printed as a chap-book down
to the close of the first quarter of the present
century; and much harmless mirth they must
have caused at cottage firesides in remote
rural districts occasionally visited by the
ubiquitous pedlar, in whose well-filled pack
of all kinds of petty merchandise such drol-
leries were sure to be found. Unlike other old
collections of facetiæ, the little work is re-
markably free from objectionable stories; some
are certainly not very brilliant, having, indeed,
nothing in them particularly "Gothamite,"
and one or two seem to have been adapted
from the Italian novelists. Of the twenty
tales comprised in the collection, the first is
certainly one of the most humorous:
There were two men of Gotham, and one
Forewords to Borde's Introduction of Know-
ledge, etc., edited, for the Early English Text
Society, by F. J. Furnivall.
It is equally certain that Borde had no hand
either in the Jests of Scogin or The Mylner of
Abyngton, the latter an imitation of Chaucer's
Reve's Tale.
Gothamite Drolleries.
25
"
"
of them was going to the market at Notting-
ham to buy sheep, and the other was coming
from the market, and both met on Nottingham
bridge.
"Well met!" said the one to the
other. "Whither are you a-going?" said he
that came from Nottingham. Marry," said
he that was going thither, "I am going to the
market to buy sheep." Buy sheep!" said
the other. "And which way will you bring
them home?" (6
Marry," said the other, "I
will bring them over this bridge."
"By
Robin Hood," said he that came from
Nottingham, "but thou shalt not."
"By
Maid Marian," said he that was going thither,
"but I will.” "Thou shalt not," said the one.
"I will," said the other. Then they beat
their staves against the ground, one against
the other, as if there had been a hundred
sheep betwixt them. "Hold them there,"
said the one. "Beware of the leaping over
the bridge of my sheep," said the other.
"They shall all come this way," said one.
"But they shall not," said the other. And
as they were in contention, another wise man
that belonged to Gotham came from the
market, with a sack of meal upon his horse;
and seeing and hearing his neighbours at
strife about sheep, and none betwixt them,
said he, "Ah, fools, will you never learn wit?
Then help me," said he that had the meal,
26
The Book of Noodles.
(6
"and lay this sack upon my shoulder." They
did so, and he went to the one side of the
bridge and unloosed the mouth of the sack,
and did shake out all the meal into the river.
Then said he, "How much meal is there in
the sack, neighbours ? Marry," answered
they, "none." "Now, by my faith," answered
this wise man, "even so much wit is there in
your two heads to strive for the thing which
you have not." Now which was the wisest of
these three persons, I leave you to judge.
Allusions to these tales are of frequent
occurrence in our literature of the sixteenth
and seventeenth centuries. Dekker, in his
Gul's Horn Book (1609), says, "It is now
high time for me to have a blow at thy head,
which I will not cut off with sharp docu-
ments, but rather set it on faster, bestowing
upon it such excellent serving that if all the
wise men of Gotham should lay their heads
together, their jobbernowls should not be able
to compare with thine;" and Wither, in his
Abuses, says,
"And he that tryes to doe it might have bin
One of the crew that hedged the cuckoo in,"
alluding to one of the most famous exploits
of the wittols:
On a time the men of Gotham would have
Gothamite Drolleries.
27
"
pinned in the cuckoo, whereby she should
sing all the year, and in the midst of the
town they made a hedge round in compass,
and they had got a cuckoo, and had put her
into it, and said, Sing here all the year,
and thou shalt lack neither meat nor drink."
The cuckoo, as soon as she perceived herself
encompassed within the hedge, flew away.
"A vengeance on her!" said they. "We
made not our hedge high enough."
The tales had, however, attained popular
favour much earlier. Mr. Halliwell-Phillipps
has pointed out that in Philotimus (1583)
the men of Gotham are remembered as
having “tied their rentes in a purse about an
hare's necke, and bade her to carrie it to
their landlord," an excellent plan, which is
thus described:
On a time the men of Gotham had forgotten
to pay their rent to their landlord. The one
said to the other, "To-morrow is our pay-
day, and what remedy shall we find to send
our money to our lord ?” The one said,
"This day I have taken a quick [i.e., live]
hare, and she small carry it, for she is light of
foot."
letter and a purse to put in our money, and
we shall direct her the ready way."
when the letters were written, and the money
"Be it so," said all.
"She shall have a
And
28
The Book of Noodles.
put in a purse, they did tie them about the
hare's neck, saying, "First thou must go to
Loughborough, and then to Leicester; and at
Newark there is our lord, and commend us to
him, and there is his duty [i.e., due]." The
hare, as soon as she was out of their hands,
she did run a clean contrary way. Some cried
to her, saying, "Thou must go to Lough-
borough first." Some said, "Let the hare
alone; she can tell a nearer way than the best
of us all do: let her go." Another said, "It
is a noble hare; let her alone; she will not
keep the highway for fear of the dogs."
The well-worn "Joe Miller" of the Irish-
man who tried to count the party to which
he belonged, and always forgot to count him-
self, which is also known in Russia and in
the West Highlands of Scotland, is simply a
variant of this drollery:
On a certain day there were twelve men of
Gotham that went to fish, and some stood on
dry land; and in going home one said to the
other, "We have ventured wonderfully in
wading: I pray God that none of us come
home and be drowned." "Nay, marry," said
one to the other, "let us see that; for there did
twelve of us come out." 'Then they told (¿.e.,
counted) themselves, and every one told
eleven. Said one to the other, "There is
Gothamite Drolleries.
29
one of us drowned." (They went pack to
the brook where they had been fishing, and
sought up and down for him that was wanting,
making great lamentation.) A courtier, coming
by, asked what it was they sought for, and
why they were sorrowful. "Oh," said they,
"this day we went to fish in the brook
twelve of us came out together, and one is
drowned." Said the courtier, "Tell [count]
how many there be of you." One of them
said, "Eleven," and he did not tell himself.
"Well,” said the courtier, "what will you
give me, and I will find the twelfth man?”
Sir," said they, "all the money we have
got." "Give me the money," said the courtier,
and began with the first, and gave him a
stroke over the shoulders with his whip,
which made him groan, saying, "Here is
one," and so served them all, and they all
groaned at the matter. When he came to
the last, he paid him well, saying,
"Here
is the twelfth man." "God's blessing on
thy heart," said they, "for thus finding our
dear brother!"]
"
¿
This droll adventure is also found in the
Gooroo Paramartan, a most amusing work,
written in the Tamil language by Beschi, an
Italian Jesuit, who was missionary in India
from 1700 till his death, in 1742. The Gooroo
(teacher) and his five disciples, who are,
30
The Book of Noodles.
One
like himself, noodles, come to a river which
they have to cross, and which, as the Gooroo
informs them, is a very dangerous stream.
To ascertain whether it is at present "asleep,"
one of them dips his lighted cheroot in the
water, which, of course, extinguishes it, upon
which he returns to the Gooroo and reports
that the river is still in a dangerous mood.
So they all sit down, and begin to tell stories
of the destructive nature of this river.
relates how his grandfather and another man
were journeying together, driving two asses
laden with bags of salt, and coming to this
river, they resolved to bathe in it, and the asses,
tempted by the coolness of the water, at the
same time knelt down in it. When the men
found that their salt had disappeared, they
congratulated themselves on their wonderful
escape from the devouring stream, which had
eaten up all their salt without even opening the
bags. Another disciple relates a story similar
to the so-called Æsopian fable of the dog and
his shadow, this river being supposed to have
devoured a piece of meat which the dog had
dropped into it. At length the river is found
to be quiescent, a piece of charred wood
having been plunged into it without producing
any effect like that of the former experiment;
and they determine to ford it, but with great
caution. Arrived on the other side, they count
Gothamite Drolleries.
31
their number, like the men of Gotham, and
discover that one is not present. A traveller,
coming up, finds the missing man by whack-
ing each of them over the shoulder. The
Gooroo, while gratified that the lost one was
found, was grumbling at his sore bones-for
the traveller had struck pretty hard-when
an old woman, on learning of their adventure,
told them that, in her young days, she and
her female companions were once returning
home from a grand festival, and adopted
another plan for ascertaining if they were
all together. Gathering some of the cattle-
droppings, they kneaded them into a cake, in
which they each made a mark with the tip
of the nose, and then counted the marks—a
plan which the Gooroo and his disciples
should make use of on future occasions.
The Abbé Dubois has given a French
translation of the Adventures of the Gooroo
Paramartan among the Contes Divers ap-
pended to his not very valuable selection of
tales and apologues from Tamil, Telegu, and
Cannada versions of the Panchatantra (Five
Chapters, not "Cinq Ruses," as he renders
it), a Sanskrit form of the celebrated Fables
of Bidpaï, or Pilpay. An English rendering
of Beschi's work, by Babington, forms one
of the publications of the Oriental Transla-
tion Fund. Dubois states that he found
32
The Book of Noodles.
the tales of the Gooroo current in Indian
countries where Beschi's name was unknown,
and he had no doubt of their Indian origin.
However this may be, the work was probably
designed, as Babington thinks, to satirise the
Brahmans, as well as to furnish a pleasing
vehicle of instruction to those Jesuits in
India whose duties required a knowledge
of the Tamil language.
A story akin to that of the Gothamite
fishers, if not, indeed, an older form of it,
is told in Iceland of the Three Brothers of
Bakki, who came upon one of the hot springs
which abound in that volcanic island, and
taking off their boots and stockings, put their
feet into the water and began to bathe them.
When they would rise up, they were per-
plexed to know each his own feet, and so
they sat disconsolate, until a wayfarer chanced
to pass by, to whom they told their case,
when he soon relieved their minds by striking
the feet of each, for which important service
they gave him many thanks. This story
reappears, slightly modified, in Campbell's
Popular Tales of the West Highlands: A
party of masons, engaged in building a dyke,
take shelter during a heavy shower, and when
it has passed, they continue sitting, because
1
¹ Powell and Magnusson's Legends of Iceland,
Second Series.
Gothamite Drolleries.
33
their legs had got mixed together, and none
knew his own, until they were put right by
a traveller with a big stick. We have here
an evident relic of the Norsemen's occupation
of the Hebrides.
Several of the tales of the Gothamites are
found almost unaltered in Gaelic. That of
the twelve fishers has been already men-
tioned, and here is the story of the attempt
to drown an eel, which Campbell gives in
similar terms in his Tales of the West High-
lands:
When that Good Friday was come, the
men of Gotham did cast their heads together
what to do with their white herring, their red
herring, their sprats, and salt fish. One con-
sulted with the other, and agreed that such
fish should be cast into a pond or pool (the
which was in the middle of the town), that it
might increase the next year; and every man
did cast them into the pool. The one said,
"I have thus many white hernings;" another
said, "I have thus many sprats;" another
said, "I have thus many salt fishes; let us
all go together into the pool, and we shall
fare like lords the next Lent." At the begin-
ning of next Lent the men did draw the pond,
to have their fish, and there was nothing but
a great eel. "Ah," said they all, "a mischief
1
3
34
The Book of Noodles.
on this eel, for he hath eat up all our fish!"
What shall we do with him ?" said the one to
hte other. "Kill him!" said one of them.
Chop him all to pieces!" said another.
"Nay, not so," said the other; "let us drown
him." "Be it so," said all. They went to
another pool, and did cast the eel into the
water. "Lie there," said they, "and shift for
thyself, for no help thou shalt have of us;"
and there they left the eel to be drowned.
Campbell's Gaelic story differs so little
from the above that we must suppose it to
have been derived directly from the English
chap-book. Oral tradition always produces
local variations from a written story, of which
we have an example in a Gaelic version of
this choice exploit:
(
There was a man of Gotham who went to
the market of Nottingham to sell cheese; and
as he was going down the hill to Nottingham
Bridge, one of his cheeses fell out of his
wallet and ran down the hill. 'Ah," said the
fellow, "can you run to the market alone? I
will now send one after the other;" then laying
down the wallet and taking out the cheeses,
he tumbled them down the hill one after the
other; and some ran into one bush, and some
into another; so at last he said, "I do
charge you to meet me in the market-place."
Gothamite Drolleries
35
And when the man came into the market to
meet the cheeses, he stayed until the market
was almost done, then went and inquired
of his neighbours and other men if they did
see his cheeses come to market. "Why, who
should bring them?" said one of the neigh-
bours. "Marry, themselves," said the fellow;
they knew the way well enough," said he:
"
"
a vengeance on them! For I was afraid to
see my cheeses run so fast, that they would
run beyond the market. I am persuaded that
they are at this time almost as far as York."
So he immediately takes a horse and rides
after them to York; but to this day no man
has ever heard of the cheeses.
In one Gaelic variant a woman is going to
Inverness with a basket filled with balls of
worsted of her own spinning, and going down
a hill, one of the balls tumbles out and rolls
along briskly, upon which she sends the others
after it, holding the ends of each in her hand;
and when she reaches the town, she finds a
"ravelled hank " instead of her neat balls of
worsted. In another version a man goes to
market with two bags of cheese, and sends
them downhill, like the Gothamite. After
waiting at the market all day in vain, he
returns home, and tells his wife of his mis-
fortune. She goes to the foot of the hill and
finds all the cheese.
36
The Book of Noodles.
The next Gothamite tale also finds its
counterpart in the Gaelic stories: There was
a man of Gotham who bought at Nottingham a
trivet, or brandiron, and as he was going home
his shoulders grew sore with the carriage
thereof, and he set it down; and seeing that
it had three feet, he said, "Ha! hast thou
three feet, and I but two? Thou shalt bear
me home, if thou wilt," and set himself down
thereupon, and said to the trivet, "Bear me
as long as I have borne thee; but if thou do
not, thou shalt stand still for me." The man
of Gotham did see that his trivet would not
go farther.
"Stand still, in the mayor's
name," said he, "and follow me if thou wilt.
I will tell thee right the way to my home."
When he did come to his house, his wife said,
"Where is my trivet?" The man said, "He
hath three legs, and I have but two; and I did
teach him the way to my house. Let him
come home if he will." "Where left ye the
"At Gotham hill,"
trivet?" said the woman.
said the man. His wife did run and fetch
home the trivet her own self, or else she had
lost it through her husband's wit.
In Campbell's version a man having been
sent by his wife with her spinning-wheel to
get mended, as he was returning home with it
the wind set the wheel in motion, so he put it
down, and bidding it go straight to his house,
Gothamite Drolleries.
37
#
set off himself. When he reached home, he
asked his wife if the spinning-wheel had
arrived yet, and on her replying that it had
not, "I thought as much," quoth he, "for I
took the shorter way."
"
A somewhat similar story is found in
Rivière's French collection of tales of the
Kabaïl, Algeria, to this effect: The mother of
a youth of the Beni-Jennad clan gave him a
hundred reals to buy a mule; so he went to
market, and on his way met a man carrying a
water-melon for sale. "How much for the
melon?" he asks. What will you give?"
says the man. "I have only got a hundred
reals," answered the booby; "had I more,
you should have it." Well," rejoined the
"I'll take them." Then the youth took
the melon and handed over the money. "But
tell me," says he, "will its young one be as
green as it is?" "Doubtless," answered the
man, "it will be green." As the booby was
going home, he allowed the melon to roll
down a slope before him. It burst on its way,
when up started a frightened hare.
"Go to
my house, young one," he shouted.
a green animal has come out of it." And
when he got home, he inquired of his mother
if the young one had arrived.
man,
"Surely
In the Gooroo Paramartan there is a parallel
incident to this last. The noodles are desirous
38
The Book of Noodles.
of providing their Gooroo with a horse, and a
man sells them a pumpkin, telling them it is
a mare's egg, which only requires to be sat
upon for a certain time to produce a fine
young horse. The Gooroo himself under-
takes to hatch the mare's egg, since his dis-
ciples have all other matters to attend to; but
as they are carrying it through a jungle, it falls
down and splits into pieces; just then a
frightened hare runs before them; and they
inform the Gooroo that a fine young colt came
out of the mare's egg, with very long ears,
and ran off with the speed of the wind. It
would have proved a fine horse for their
revered Gooroo, they add; but he con-
soles himself for the loss by reflecting that
such an animal would probably have run
away with him.
A number of the Gothamite tales in the
printed collection are not only inferior to
those which are preserved orally, but can
be considered in no sense examples of pre-
eminent folly. Three consist of tricks played
by women upon their husbands, such as are
found in the ordinary jest-books of the six-
teenth and seventeenth centuries. In one a
man, who had taken a buzzard, invites some
friends to dine with him. His wife, with two of
her gossips, having secretly eaten the buzzard,
Gothamite Drolleries.
39
1
kills and cooks an old goose, and sets it
before him and his guests; the latter call him
a knave to mock them thus with an old goose,
and go off in great anger. The husband,
resolved to put himself right with his friends,
stuffs the buzzard's feathers into a sack, in
order to show them that they were mistaken
in thinking he had tried to deceive them with
an old goose instead of a fine fat buzzard.
But before he started on this business, his
wife contrived to substitute the goose's
feathers, which he exhibited to his friends at
those of the buzzard, and was soundly cud-
gelled for what they believed to be a second
attempt to mock them.- Two other stories
seem to be derived from the Italian novelists:
of the man who intended cutting off his wife's
hair¹ and of the man who defied his wife to
cuckold him. Two others turn upon wrong
responses at a christening and a marriage,
which have certainly nothing Gothamite in
them. Another is a dull story of a Scotchman
who employed a carver to make him as a
sign of his inn a boar's head, the tradesman
supposing from his northern pronunciation
¹ An imitation of Boccaccio, Decameron, Day
vii., nov. 8, who perhaps borrowed the story from
Guérin's fabliau "De la Dame qui fit accroire à
son Mari qu'il avait rêvé; aliàs, Les Cheveux
Coupés " (Le Grand's Fabliaux, ed. 1781, tome
ii., 280).
40
The Book of Noodles.
that he meant a bare head.-In the nine-
teenth tale, a party of gossips are assembled
at the alehouse, and each relates in what
manner she is profitable to her husband: one
saves candles by sending all her household
to bed in daylight; another, like the old
fellow and Tib his wife in Jolly Good Ale
and Old, eats little meat, but can swig a
gallon or two of ale, and so forth.
We have, however, our Gothamite once
more in the story of him who, seeing a fine
cheese on the ground as he rode along the
highway, tried to pick it up with his sword,
and finding his sword too short, rode back to
fetch a longer one for his purpose, but when
he returned, he found the cheese was gone. “A
murrain take it!" quoth he. 'If I had had this
sword, I had had this cheese myself, and now
another hath got it!" Also in the smith who
took a red-hot iron bar and thrust it into the
thatch of his smithy to destroy a colony of
wasps, and, of course, burned down the
smithy-a story which has done duty in
modern days to "point a moral" in the form
of a teetotal tract, with a drunken smith in
place of the honest Gothamite!'
A slightly different version occurs in the
Tale of Beryn, which is found in a unique MS. of
Chaucer's Canterbury Tales, and which forms
the first part of the old French romance of the
Gothamite Drolleries.
4I
The following properly belongs to stories
of the "silly son class: There was a
young man of Gotham the which should go
wooing to a fair maid. His mother did warn
him beforehand, saying, "When thou dost
look upon her, cast a sheep's-eye, and say,
'How do ye, sweet pigsnie?'" The fellow
went to the butcher's and bought seven or
eight sheep's eyes; and when this lusty wooer
did sit at dinner, he would cast in her face a
sheep's eye, saying, "How dost thou, my
pretty pigsnie?" "How do I?" said the
wench. "Swine's-face, why dost thou cast
the sheep's eye upon me?" "O sweet
pigsnie, have at thee another!" "I defy thee,
Swine's-face," said the wench. The fellow,
being abashed, said, "What, sweet pigsnie!
Be content, for if thou do live until the next
year, thou wilt be a foul sow." "Walk, knave,
walk!" said she; "for if thou live till the
Chevalier Berinus. In the English poem Beryn,
lamenting his misfortunes, and that he had dis-
inherited himself, says:
"But I fare like the man, that for to swale his vlyes
[i.e. flies]
He stert in-to the bern, and aftir stre he hies,
And goith a-bout with a brennyng wase,
Tyll it was atte last that the leam and blasę
Entryd in-to the chynys, wher the whete was,
And kissid so the evese, that brent was al the plase."
It is certain that the author of the French
original of the Tale of Beryn did not get this
tory out of our jests of the men of Gotham.
42
The Book of Noodles.
next year, thou wilt be a stark knave, a lubber,
and a fool."
It is very evident that the men of Gotham
were of "honest" Jack Falstaff's opinion that
the better part of valour is discretion: On a
time there was a man of Gotham a-mowing
in the meads and found a great grasshopper.
He cast down his scythe, and did run home to
his neighbours, and said that there was a devil
in the field that hopped in the grass. Then
there was every man ready with clubs and
staves, with halberts, and with other weapons,
to go and kill the grasshopper. When they
did come to the place where the grasshopper
should be, said the one to the other, "Let
every man cross himself from the devil, or
we will not meddle with him." And so they
returned again, and said, "We were all
blessed this day that we went no farther."
"Ah, cowards," said he that had his scythe
in the mead, "help me to fetch my scythe."
"No," said they; "it is good to sleep in a
whole skin: better it is to lose thy scythe
than to mar us all."
There is some spice of humour in the con-
cluding tale of the printed collection, although
it has no business there: On Ash Wednes-
day the priest said to the men of Gotham,
"If I should enjoin you to prayer, there is
none of you that can say your paternoster;
Gothamite Drolleries.
43
and you be now too old to learn. And to
enjoin you to fast were foolishness, for you
do not eat a good meal's meat in a year.
Wherefore do I enjoin thee to labour all the
week, that thou mayest fare well to dine on
Sunday, and I will come to dinner and see it
to be so, and take my dinner." Another man
he did enjoin to fare well on Monday, and
another on Tuesday, and one after another
that one or other should fare well once a
week, that he might have part of his meat.
"And as for alms," said the priest, "ye be
beggars all, except one or two; therefore
bestow alms on yourselves."
Among the numerous stories of the Gotham-
ites preserved orally, but not found in the
collection of "A. B., of Phisicke Doctour," is
the following, which seems to be of Indian
extraction:
One day some men of Gotham were walk-
ing by the riverside, and came to a place
where the contrary currents caused the water
to boil as in a whirlpool. "See how the
water boils!" says one. "If we had plenty
of oatmeal," says another, we might make
enough porridge to serve all the village for
a month." So it was resolved that part of
them should go to the village and fetch their
oatmeal, which was soon brought and thrown
"
44
The Book of Noodles.
into the river. But there presently arose the
question of how they were to know when the
porridge was ready. This difficulty was over-
come by the offer of one of the company to
jump in, and it was agreed that if he found it
ready for use, he should signify the same to
his companions. The man jumped in, and
found the water deeper than he expected.
Thrice he rose to the surface, but said nothing.
The others, impatient at his remaining so long
silent, and seeing him smack his lips, took
this for an avowal that the porridge was good,
and so they all jumped in after him and were
drowned.
Another traditional Gothamite story is re-
lated of a villager coming home at a late hour,
and, seeing the reflection of the moon in a
horse-pond, believed it to be a green cheese,
and roused all his neighbours to help him to
draw it out. They raked and raked away until
a passing cloud sank the cheese, when they
returned to their
to their homes grievously dis-
appointed.' This is also related of the
1
¹ There is an analogous Indian story of a youth
who went to a tank to drink, and observing the
reflection of a golden-crested bird that was
sitting on a tree, he thought it was gold in the
water, and entered the tank to take it up, but he
could not lay hold of it as it appeared and dis-
appeared in the water. But as often as he
ascended the bank he again saw it in the water
Gothamite Drolleries.
45
villagers near the Marlborough Downs, in
Wiltshire, and the sobriquet of “moon-
rakers," applied to Wiltshire folk in general,
is said to have had its origin in the incident;
but they assert that it was a keg of smuggled
brandy, which had been sunk in a pond, that
the villagers were attempting to fish up,
when the exciseman coming suddenly upon
the scene, they made him believe they were
raking the reflection of the moon, thinking it
a green cheese, an explanation which is on
and again he entered the tank to lay hold of it,
and still he got nothing. At length his father
saw and questioned him, then drove away the
bird, and explaining the matter to him, took the
foolish fellow home.
We have already seen that the men of Abdera
(p. 5) flogged an ass before its fellows for
upsetting a jar of olive oil, but what is that com-
pared with the story of the ass that drank up the
moon? According to Ludovicus Vives, a learned
Spanish writer, certain townspeople imprisoned
an ass for drinking up the moon, whose reflec-
tion, appearing in the water, was covered with a
cloud while the ass was drinking.
Next day
the poor beast was brought to the bar to be sen-
tenced according to his deserts. After the grave
burghers had discussed the affair for some time,
one at length rose up and declared that it was '
not fit the town should lose its moon, but rather
that the ass should be cut open and the moon he
had swallowed taken out of him, which, being
cordially approved by the others, was done ac-
cordingly.
46
The Book of Noodles.
a par with the apocryphal tale of the Gotham-
ites and the messengers of King John.
The absurd notion of the moon being a fine
cheese is of very respectable antiquity, and
occurs in the noodle-stories of many countries.
It is referred to by Rabelais, and was doubt-
less the subject of a popular French tale in
his time. In the twenty-second story of the
Disciplina Clericalis of Peter Alfonsus, a
Spanish Jew, who was baptised in 1106,
a fox leaves a wolf in a well, looking after a
supposed cheese, made by the image of the
moon in the water; and the same fable had
been told by the Talmudists in the fifth cen-
tury.' The well-known "Joe Miller" of the
party of Irishmen who endeavoured to reach
a "green cheese" in the river by hanging one
by another's legs finds its parallel in a Meck-
lenburg story, in which some men by the
same contrivance tried to get a stone from the
bottom of a well, and the incident is thus
related in the old English jest-book entitled
The Sacke Full of Newes:
There were three young men going to Lam-
beth along by the waterside, and one played
with the other, and they cast each other's caps
into the water in such sort as they could not
get their caps again. But over the place
This is also one of the Fables of Marie de
France (thirteenth century).
Gothamite Drolleries.
47
where their caps were did grow a great old
tree, the which did cover a great deal of the
water. One of them said to the rest, "Sirs,
I have found a notable way to come by them.
First I will make myself fast by the middle
with one of your girdles unto the tree, and he
that is with you shall hang fast upon my girdle,
and he that is last shall take hold on him that
holds fast on my girdle, and so with one of
his hands he may take up all our caps,
and cast them on the sand." And so they
did; but when they thought that they had
been most secure and fast, he that was
above felt his girdle slack, and said, "Soft,
sirs! My girdle slacketh." "Make it fast
quickly," said they. But as he was untying
it to make it faster they fell all three into
the water, and were well washed for their
pains.
Closely allied to these tales is the Russian
story of the old man who planted a cabbage-
head in the cellar, under the floor of his
cottage, and, strange to say, it grew right up
to the sky. He climbs up the cabbage-stalk
till he reaches the sky. There he sees a
mill, which gives a turn, and out come a pie
and a cake, with a pot of stewed grain on the
top. The old man eats his fill and drinks his
fill; then he lies down to sleep. By-and-bye
he awakes, and slides down to earth again.
6
48
The Book of Noodles.
1
He tells his wife of the good things up in the
sky, and she induces him to take her with
him. She slips into a sack, and the old man
takes it in his teeth and begins to climb up.
The old woman, becoming tired, asked him if
it was much farther, and just as he was about
to say, "Not much farther," the sack slipped
from between his teeth, and the old woman
fell to the ground and was smashed to pieces.
There are many variants of this last story
(which is found in Mr. Ralston's most
valuable and entertaining collection of Russian
folk-tales), but observe the very close resem-
blance which it bears to the following Indian
tale of the fools and the bull of Siva, from the
Katha Sarit Ságara (Ocean of the Streams of
Story), the grand collection, composed in
Sanskrit verse by Somadeva in the eleventh
century, from a similar work entitled Vrihat
Katha (Great Story), written in Sanskrit
prose by Gunadhya, in the sixth century: '
1
In a certain convent, which was full of
fools, there was a man who was the greatest
1
¹ A complete translation of the Katha Sarit
Sagara, by Professor C. H. Tawney, with notes
of variants, which exhibit his wide acquaintance
with the popular fictions of all lands, has been
recently published at Calcutta (London agents,
Messrs. Trübner and Co.), a work which must
prove invaluable to every English student of
comparative folk-lore.
Gothamite Drolleries.
49
fool of the lot. He once heard in a treatise
on law, which was being read aloud, that
a man who has a tank made gains a great
reward in the next world. Then, as he had
a large fortune, he had made a large tank full
of water, at no great distance from his own
convent. One day this prince of fools went
to take a look at that tank of his, and per-
ceived that the sand had been scratched up
by some creature. The next day too he came,
and saw that the bank had been torn up in
another part of the tank, and being quite
astonished, he said to himself, "I will watch
here to-morrow the whole day, beginning in
the early morning, and I will find out what
creature it is that does this." After he had
formed this resolution, he came there early
next morning, and watched, until at last he
saw a bull descend from heaven and plough
up the bank with its horns, He thought,
"This is a heavenly bull, so why should I not
go to heaven with it?" And he went up to
the bull, and with both his hands laid hold of
the 'tail behind. Then the holy bull lifted
up, with the utmost force, the foolish man
who was clinging to its tail, and carried him
in a moment to its home in Kailása.¹ There
¹ Siva's paradise. according to Hindu mytho-
logy, is on Mount Kailása, in the Himalyas,
north of Mánasa,
?
50
The Book of Noodles.
the foolish man lived for some time in great
comfort, feasting on heavenly dainties, sweet-
meats, and other things which he obtained.
And seeing that the bull kept going and
returning, that king of fools, bewildered by
destiny, thought, "I will go down clinging to
the tail of the bull and see my friends, and
after I have told them this wonderful tale, I
will return in the same way." Having formed
this resolution, the fool went and clung to the
tail of the bull one day when it was setting
out, and so returned to the surface of the
earth. When he entered the convent, the
other blockheads who were there embraced
him, and asked him where he had been, and
he told them. Then all these foolish men,
having heard the tale of his adventures, made
this petition to him: "Be kind, and take us
also there; enable us also to feast on sweet-
meats." He consented, and told them his
plan for doing it, and next day led them to
the border of the tank, and the bull came
there. And the principal fool seized the tail
of the bull with his two hands, and another
took nold of his feet, and a third in turn took
hold of his. So, when they had formed a
chain by hanging on to one another's feet,
the bull flew rapidly up into the air. And
while the bull was going along, with all the
fools clinging to its tail, it happened that one
Gothamite Drolleries.
51
of the fools said to the principal fool, "Tell
us now, to satisfy our curiosity, how large
were the sweetmeats which you ate, of which
a never-failing supply can be obtained in
heaven?", Then the leader had his attention
diverted from the business in hand, and
quickly joined his hands together like the cup
of a lotus, and exclaimed in answer,
"So
big." But in so doing he let go the tail of the
bull, and accordingly he and all those others
fell from heaven, and were killed; and the
bull returned to Kailása; but the people who
saw it were much amused.¹
"Thus," remarks the story-teller, "fools do
themselves injury by asking questions and
giving answers without reflection"; he then
proceeds to relate a story in illustration of
the apothegm that "association with fools
brings prosperity to no man":
A certain fool, while going to another
village, forgot the way. And when he asked
the way, the people said to him, "Take the
path that goes up by the tree on the bank of
the river." Then the fool went and got on
the trunk of that tree, and said to himself,
"The men told me that my way lay up the
trunk of this tree." And as he went on
climbing up it, the bough at the end bent
¹ Tawney's translation, which is used through-
out this work.
52
The Book of Noodles
with his weight, and it was all he could do to
avoid falling by clinging to it. While he was
clinging to it, there came that way an elephant
that had been drinking water, with his driver
on his back. And the fool called to him,
saying, "Great sir, take me down." The
elephant-driver laid hold of him by the feet
with both his hands, to take him down from
the tree. Meanwhile the elephant went on,
and the driver found himself clinging to the
feet of the fool, who was clinging to the end
of the tree. Then said the fool to the driver,
Sing something, in order that the people
may hear, and come at once and take us
down." So the elephant-driver, thus appealed
to, began to sing, and he sang so sweetly
that the fool was much pleased; and in his
desire to applaud him, he forgot what he was
about, let go his hold of the tree, and pre-
pared to clap him with both his hands; and
immediately he and the elephant-driver fell
into the river and were drowned.
64
The germ of all stories of this class is
perhaps found in the Játakas, or Buddhist
Birth Stories: A pair of geese resolve to
migrate to another country, and agree to carry
with them a tortoise, their intimate friend,
taking the ends of a stick between their bills,
and the tortoise grasping it by the middle
with his mouth. As they are flying over
Gothamite Drolleries.
53
Bánáres, the people exclaim in wonder to
one another at such a strange sight, and the
tortoise, unable to maintain silence, opens
his mouth to rebuke them, and by so doing
falls to the ground, and is dashed into pieces.
This fable is also found in Babrius (115); in
the Katha Sarit Ságara, in the several ver-
sions of the Fables of Bidpaï; and in the
Avadánas, translated into French from the
Chinese by Stanislas Julien.
To return to Gothamite stories. According
to one of those which are current orally, the
men of Gotham had but one knife among
them, which was stuck in a tree in the middle
of the village for their common use, and
many amusing incidents, says Mr. Halliwell-
Phillipps, arose out of their disputes for the
use of this knife. The "carles " of Austwick,
in Yorkshire, are said also to have had but one
knife, or "whittle," which was deposited under
a tree, and if it was not found there when
wanted, the " carle" requiring it called out,
"Whittle to the tree!" This plan did very
well for some years, until it was taken one
day by a party of labourers to a neighbouring
moor, to be used for cutting their bread and
cheese. When the day's labour was done,
they resolved to leave the knife at the place,
54
The Book of Noodles.
to save themselves the trouble of carrying it
back, as they should want it again next day;
so they looked about for some object to mark
the spot, and stuck it into the ground under a
black cloud that happened to be the most
remarkable object in sight. But next day,
when they returned to the place, the cloud was
gone, and the "whittle" was never seen again.
>>
When an Austwick "carle comes into
any of the larger towns of Yorkshire, it is
said he is greeted with the question, "Who
tried to lift the bull over the gate ?" in allu-
sion to the following story: An Austwick
farmer, wishing to get a bull out of a field-
how the animal got into it, the story does not
inform us-procured the assistance of nine of
his neighbours to lift the animal over the gate.
After trying in vain for some hours, they sent
one of their number to the village for more
help. In going out he opened the gate, and
after he had gone away, it occurred to one of
those who remained that the bull might be
allowed to go out in the same manner.
Another Austwick farmer had to take a
wheelbarrow to a certain town, and, to save
a hundred yards by going the ordinary road,
he went through the fields, and had to lift the
barrow over twenty-two stiles.
It was a Wiltshire man, however (if all
tales be true), who determined to cure the
Gothamite Drolleries.
55'
filthy habits of his hogs by making them
roost upon the branches of a tree, like birds.
Night after night the pigs were hoisted up to
their perch, and every morning one of them
was found with its neck broken, until at last
there were none left.—And quite as witless,
surely, was the device of the men of Belmont,
who once desired to move their church three
yards farther westward, so they carefully
marked the exact distance by leaving their
coats on the ground. Then they set to work
to push with all their might against the eastern
wall. In the meantime a thief had gone round
to the west side and stolen their coats.
"Diable !" exclaimed they on finding that their
coats were gone, we have pushed too far!"
"


e
CHAPTER III.
GOTHAMITE DROLLERIES (continued).

HE Schildburgers, it has been already
remarked, are the Gothamites of
Germany, and the stories of their
stupidity, after being orally current
for years among the people, were collected
near the close of the sixteenth century, the
earliest known edition being that of 1597.
In a most lively and entertaining article on
"Early German Comic Romances" (Foreign
Quarterly Review, No. 40, 1837), the late Mr.
W. J. Thoms has furnished an account of the
exploits of the Schildburgers, from which the
following particulars and tales are extracted:
"There have been few happier ideas than
that of making these simpletons descend
from one of the wise men of Greece, and
representing them as originally gifted with
such extraordinary talents as to be called to
the councils of all the princes of the earth,
to the great detriment of their circumstances
and the still greater dissatisfaction of their
!
Gothamite Drolleries.
57
wives, and then, upon their being summoned
home to arrange their disordered affairs, de-
termining, in their wisdom, to put on the garb
of stupidity, and persevering so long and so
steadfastly in their assumed character as to
prove 'plain fools at last.' No way inferior
is the end of this strange tale, which assumes
even somewhat of serious interest when the
Schildburgers, after performing every con-
ceivable piece of folly, and receiving the
especial privilege of so doing under the seal
and signature of the emperor, by the crown-
ing act of their lives turn themselves out of
house and home, whereby they are com-
pelled, like the Jews, to become outcasts
and wandererr over the face of the earth,
by which means it has arisen that there is
no spot, however remote, on which some c
their descendants, who may be known
by their characteristic stupidity, are not to
be found."
44
Their first piece of folly was to build a
council-house without windows. When they
entered it, and, to use the words of the
nursery ballad, saw they could not see,"
they were greatly puzzled to account for such
a state of things; and having in vain gone
outside and examined the building to find
why the inside was dark, they determined to
58
The Book of Noodles.
hold a council upon the subject on the follow-
ing day. At the time appointed they as-
sembled, each bringing with him a torch,
which, on seating himself, he stuck in his
hat. After much discussion, one genius,
brighter than the rest, decided that they could
not see for want of daylight, and that they
ought on the morrow to carry in as much of
it as possible. Accordingly, the next day,
when the sun shone, all the sacks, bags, boxes,
baskets, tubs, pans, etc. of the village were
filled with its beams and carefully carried
into the council-house and emptied there,
but with no good effect. After this they re-
moved the roof, by the advice of a traveller,
whom they rewarded amply for the sugges-
tion. This plan answered famously during
the summer, but when the rains of winter
fell, and they were forced to replace the roof,
they found the house just as dark as ever.
Again they met, again they stuck their torches
in their hats, but to no purpose, until by
chance one of them was quitting the house,
and groping his way along the wall, when a
ray of light fell through a crevice and upon
his beard, whereupon he suggested, what
had never occurred to any of them, that it
was possible they might get daylight in by
making a window.
Gothamite Drolleries.
59
Another tale relates how the boors of
Schilda contrived to get their millstone twice
down from a high mountain :
The boors of Schilda had built a mill, and
with extraordinary labour they had quarried
a millstone for it out of a quarry which lay
on the summit of a high mountain; and when
the stone was finished, they carried it with
great labour and pain down the hill. When
they had got to the bottom, it occurred to one
of them that they might have spared them-
selves the trouble of carrying it down by
letting it roll down. "Verily," said he, "we
are the stupidest of fools to take these extra-
ordinary pains to do that which we might
have done with so little trouble. We will
carry it up, and then let it roll down the hill
by itself, as we did before with the tree which
we felled for the council-house.
""
This advice pleased them all, and with
greater labour they carried the stone to the
top of the mountain again, and were about to
roll it down, when one of them said, "But
how shall we know where it runs to? Who
will be able to tell us aught about it?”
"Why," said the bailiff, who had advised
the stone being carried up again, "this is
very easily managed. One of us must stick
in the hole [for the millstone, of course, had a
hole in the middle], and run down with it.”
бо
The Book of Noodles
This was agreed to, and one of them, having
been chosen for the purpose, thrust his head
through the hole, and ran down the hill with
the millstone. Now at the bottom of the
mountain was a deep fish-pond, into which
the stone rolled, and the simpleton with it,
so that the Schildburgers lost both stone and
man, and not one among them knew what
had become of them. And they felt sorely
angered against their old companion who had
run down the hill with the stone, for they
considered that he had carried it off for the
purpose of disposing of it. So they published
a notice in all the neighbouring boroughs,
towns, and villages, calling on them, that “it
any one come there with a millstone round
his neck, they should treat him as one who
had stolen the common goods, and give him
to justice.” But the poor fellow lay in the
pond, dead. Had he been able to speak, he
would have been willing to tell them not to
worry themselves on his account, for he would
give them their own again. But his load
pressed so heavily upon him, and he was so
deep in the water, that he, after drinking
water enough-more, indeed, than was good
for him-died; and he is dead at the present
day, and dead he will, shall, and must
remain !
Gothamite Drolleries.
61
The forty-seventh chapter recounts "How
the Schildburgers purchased a mouser, and
with it their own ruin":
Now it happened that there were no cats
in Schilda, and so many mice that nothing
was safe, even in the bread-basket, for what-
soever they put there was sure to be gnawed
or eaten; and this grieved them sorely. And
upon a time there came a traveller into the
village, carrying a cat in his arms, and he
entered the hostel. The host asked him,
"What sort of a beast is that?" Said he,
"It is a mouser." Now the mice at Schilda
were so quiet and so tame that they never
fled before the people, but ran about all day
long, without the slightest fear. So the
traveller let the cat run, who, in the sight of
the host, soon caught numbers of mice. Now
when the people were told this by the host,
they asked the man whether the mouser was
to be sold, for they would pay him well for
it. He said, "It certainly was not to be sold;
but seeing that it would be so useful to them,
he would let them have it if they would pay
him what was right," and he asked a hundred
florins for it. The boors were glad to find
that he asked so little, and concluded a bar-
gain with him, he agreeing to take half the
money down, and to come again in six
months to fetch the rest. As soon as the
62
The Book of Noodles.
bargain was struck on both sides, they gave
the traveller the half of the money, and he
carried the mouser into the granary, where
they kept their corn, for there were most mice
there. The traveller went off with the money
at full speed, for he feared greatly lest they
should repent them of the bargain, and want
their money back again; and as he went
along he kept looking behind him to see that
no one was following him. Now the boors
had forgotten to ask what the cat was to be
fed upon, so they sent one after him in haste
to ask him the question. But when he with
the gold saw that some one was following
him, he hastened so much the more, so that
the boor could by no means overtake him,
whereupon he called out to him from afar off,
"What does it eat?" "What you please!
What you please!" quoth the traveller. But
the peasant understood him to say, "Men and
beasts! Men and beasts!" Therefore he
returned home in great affliction, and said
as much to his worthy masters.
On learning this they became greatly
alarmed, and said, "When it has no more
mice to eat, it will eat our cattle; and when
they are gone, it will eat us! To think that
we should lay out our good money in buying
such a thing!" And they held counsel together
and resolved that the cat should be killed.
Gothamite Drolleries.
63
But no one would venture to lay hold of it for
that purpose, whereupon it was determined
to burn the granary, and the cat in it, seeing
that it was better they should suffer a common
loss than all lose life and limb. So they set
fire to the granary. But when the cat smelt
the fire, it sprang out of a window and fled
to another house, and the granary was burned
to the ground. Never was there sorrow greater
than that of the Schildburgers when they found
that they could not kill the cat. They coun-
selled with one another, and purchased the
house to which the cat had fled, and burned
that also. But the cat sprang out upon the roof,
and sat there, washing itself and putting its
paws behind its ears, after the manner of cats;
and the Schildburgers understood thereby
that the cat lifted up its hands and swore an
oath that it would not leave their treatment
of it unrevenged. Then one of them took a
long pole and struck at the cat, but the cat
caught hold of the pole, and began to clamber
down it, whereupon all the people grew
greatly alarmed and ran away, and left the
fire to burn as it might. And because no one
regarded the fire, nor sought to put it out, the
whole village was burned to a house, and
notwithstanding that, the cat escaped. And
the Schildburgers fled with their wives and
children to a neighbouring forest. And at
64
The Book of Noodles.
this time was burned their chancery and all
the papers therein, which is the reason why
their history is not to be found described in a
more regular manner.
Thus ended the career of the Schild-
burgers as a community, according to the
veracious chronicle of their marvellous ex-
ploits, the first of which, their carrying sun-
shine into the council-house, is a favourite
incident in the noodle-stories of many coun-
tries, and has its parallel in the Icelandic
story of the Three Brothers of Bakki: They
had observed that in winter the weather was
colder than in summer, also that the larger the
windows of a house were the colder it was.
All frost and sharp cold, therefore, they
thought sprang from the fact that houses had
windows in them. So they built themselves
a house on a new plan, without windows in it
at all. It followed, of course, that there was
always pitch darkness in it. They found that
this was rather a fault in the
house, but com-
certainty that in
forted themselves with the
winter it would be very warm; and as to
light, they thought they could contrive some
easy means of getting the house lighted.
One fine day in the middle of summer, when
the sunshine was brightest, they began to
carry the darkness out of the house in their
Gothamite Drolleries.
65
caps, and emptied it out when they came into
the sunshine, which they then carried into the
dark room. Thus they worked hard the whole
day, but in the evening, when they had done
all their best, they were not a little disap-
pointed to find that it was as dark as before,
so much so that they could not tell one hand
from the other.!
There is a Kashímír story which bears a
slight resemblance to the exploit of the Schild-
burgers with the cat. A poor old woman used
to beg her food by day and cook it at night.
Half of the food she would eat in the morning,
and the other half in the evening. After a
while a cat got to know of this arrangement,
and came and ate the meal for her. The old
woman was very patient, but at last could no
longer endure the cat's impudence, and so she
laid hold of it. She argued with herself as to
whether she should kill it or not. "If I slay
it," she thought, "it will be a sin; but if I
keep it alive, it will be to my heavy loss." So
she determined only to punish it. She pro-
cured some cotton wool and some oil, and
soaking the one in the other, tied it on to the
cat's tail and then set it on fire. Away rushed
the cat across the yard, up the side of the
1 Powell and Magnusson's Legends of Iceland,
Second Series, p. 626.
5
66
The Book of Noodles.
window, and on to the roof, where its flaming
tail ignited the thatch and set the whole house
on fire. The flames soon spread to other
houses, and the whole village was destroyed.'
An older form of this incident is found in the
introduction to a Persian poetical version of the
Book of Sindibád (Sindibád Náma), of which
a unique MS. copy, very finely illuminated,
but imperfect, is preserved in the Library
of the India Office:2 In a village called
Buzina-Gird (¿.e., Monkey Town) there was a
goat that was in the habit of butting at a cer-
tain old woman whenever she came into the
street. One day the old woman had been to
ask fire from a neighbour, and on her return
the goat struck her so violently with his horns
when she was off her guard as to draw blood.
Enraged at this, she applied the fire which
she held to the goat's fleece, which kindled,
and the animal ran to the stables of the
elephant-keeper, and rubbed his sides against
the reeds and willows. They caught fire,
which the wind soon spread, and the heads
and faces of the warlike elephants were
} Dictionary of Kashmiri Proverbs and Sayings.
Explained and illustrated from the rich and in-
teresting folk-lore of the Valley. By the Rev.
J. Hinton Knowles. Bombay: 1885.
2 This work was composcd A.H. 776 (A.D.
1374-5), as the anonymous author takes care to
inform us in his opening verses.
Gothamite Drolleries.
67
scorched. With the sequel-how the king
caused all the monkeys to be slaughtered, as
their fat was required to cure the scorched
elephants-we have no concern at present.¹
In Ceylon whole districts, such as Tum-
pane, in the central province, Morora Korle,
in the southern province, and Rayigam Korle,
in the western province, are credited with
being the abode of fools. A learned writer
on the proverbial sayings of the Sinhalese
states that these often refer to "popular
stories of stupid people to which foolish
actions are likened. The stories of the Tum-
pane villagers who tried to unearth and carry
off a well because they saw a bees' nest
reflected in the water; of the Morora Korle
boatmen who mistook a bend in the river for
the sea, left their cargo there, and returned
home; of the Rayigam Korle fools who threw
1
¹ A still older form of the story occurs in the
Pancha Tantra (Five Sections), a Sanskrit ver-
sion of the celebrated Fables of Bidpai, in which
a gluttonous ram is in the habit of going to the
king's kitchen and devouring all food within his
reach. One of the cooks beat him with a burn-
ing log of wood, and the ram rushed off with his
blazing fleece and set the horses' stables on fire,
and so forth. The story is most probably of
Buddhist extraction,
68
The Book of Noodles.
stones at the moon to frighten her off one
fine moonlight night when they thought she
was coming too near, and that there was dan-
ger of her burning their crops, are well known,
and it is customary to ask a man if he was
born in one of these places if he has done
anything particularly foolish. The story of
the double-fool-i.e., of the man who tried to
lighten the boat by carrying his pingo load
over his shoulders;' of the man who stretched
out his hands to be warmed by the fire on the
other side of the river; of the rustic's wife
who had her own head shaved, so as not to
lose the barber's services for the day when he
came, and her husband was away from home;
of the villagers who tied up their mortars in
the village in the belief that the elephant
tracks in the rice fields were caused by the
mortars wandering about at night; of the man
who would not wash his body in order to
spite the river; of the people who flogged the
elk-skin at home to avenge themselves on the
deer that trespassed in the fields at night;
and of the man who performed the five pre-
cepts-all these are popular stories of foolish
people which have passed into proverbs.”
¹ A Sinhalese variant of the exploit of the man
of Norfolk and of the man of Gotham with the
sack of meal. See ante, p. 19.
2 Mr. C. J. R. le Mesuricr in The Orientalist
(Kandy, Ceylon: 1884), pp. 233-4.
Gothamite Drolleries.
69
The last of the stories referred to in the
above extract is as follows: A woman once
rebuked her husband for not performing the
five (Buddhist) precepts. "I don't know what
they are,” he replied. "Oh, it's very easy,"
she said; "all you have to do is to go to the
priest and repeat what he says after him."
"Is that all?" he answered. "Then I'll go
and do it at once." Off he went, and as he
neared the temple the priest saw him and
called out, "Who are you?" to which he re-
plied, "Who are you?" "What do you
want?" demands the priest. What do you
want?" the blockhead answers dutifully.
"Are you mad?" roared the priest. "Are
you mad?" returned the rustic.
"Here,"
said the priest to his attendants, "take and
beat him well;" and notwithstanding that he
carefully repeated the words again, taken
and thoroughly well thrashed he was, after
which he crawled back to his wife and said,
"What a wonderful woman you are! You
manage to repeat the five precepts every day,
and are strong and healthy, while I, who have
only said them once, am nearly dead with
fever from the bruises."
To this last may be added a story in the
¹ The Orientalist, 1884, p. 234. A much fuller
version, with subsequent incidents, is given in
the same excellent periodical, pp. 36-38
70
The Book of Noodles.
Katha Manjari, a Canarese collection, of
the stupid fellow and the Rámáyana, one of
the two great Hindú epics: One day a man
was reading the Rámáyana in the bazaar, and
a woman, thinking her husband might be in-
structed by hearing it, sent him there. He
went, and stood leaning on his crook-for he
was a shepherd-when presently a practical
joker, seeing his simplicity, jumped upon his
shoulders, and he stood with the man on his
back until the discourse was concluded.
When he reached home, his wife asked him
how he liked the Rámáyana. "Alas!" said
he, "it was not easy; it was a man's load."
The race of Gothamites is indeed found
everywhere-in popular tales, if not in actual
life; and their sayings and doings are not less
diverting when husband and wife are well
mated, as in the following story:
An Arab observing one morning that his
house was ready to tumble about his ears
from decay, and being without the means of
repairing it, went with a long face to his wife,
and informed her of his trouble. She said,
'Why, my dear, need you distress yourself
about so small a matter? You have a cow
worth thirty dirhams; take her to the market
and sell her for that sum. I have some
46
Gothamite Drolleries.
71
thread, which I will dispose of to-day, and I
warrant you that between us both we shall
manage very well." The man at once drove
the cow to the market, and gave her over for
sale to the appraiser of cattle. The sales-
man showed her to the bystanders, directed
their attention to all her good points, ex-
patiated on all her good qualities, and, in short,
passed her off as a cow of inestimable value.
To all this the simpleton listened with delight
and astonishment; he heard his cow praised
for qualities that no other cow ever pos-
sessed, and determined in his own mind not
to lose so rare a bargain, but purchase her
himself and balk the chapmen. He there-
fore called out to the appraiser, and asked him
what she was going at. The salesman replied,
"At fifteen dirhams and upwards." "By the
head of the Prophet," exclaimed the wittol,
"had I known that my cow was such a
prodigy of excellence, you should not have
caught me in the market with her for sale."
Now it happened that he had just fifteen
dirhams, and no more, and these he thrust
upon the broker, exclaiming, "The cow is
mine; I have the best claim to her." He
then seized the cow and drove her home,
exulting all the way as if he had found a
treasure. On reaching home he inquired
eagerly for his wife, to inform her of his ad-
72 The Book of Noodles.
venture, but was told she was not returned
from market. He waited impatiently for her
return, when he sprang up to meet her,
crying, "Wife, I have done something to-day
that will astonish you. I have performed a
marvellous exploit!" "Patience!" says his
wife. "Perhaps I have done something my-
self to match it. But hear my story, and
then talk of cleverness, if you please.” The
husband desired her to proceed.
"When I went to market," says she, "I
found a man in want of thread. I showed
him mine, which he approved of, and having
bargained for it, he agreed to pay me accord-
ing to the weight. I told him it weighed so
much, which he seemed to discredit, and
weighed it himself. Observing it to fall short
of the weight I had mentioned, and fearing
I should lose the price I at first expected,
I requested him to weigh it over again, and
make certain. In the meantime, taking an
opportunity unobserved, I stripped off my
silver bracelets and put them slily into the
scale with my thread. The scale, of course,
now preponderated, and I received the full
price I had demanded." Having finished her
story, she cried out, "Now, what do you
think of your wife?" " Amazing! amazing!'
said he. "Your capacity is supernatural.
And now, if you please, I will give you a
Gothamite Drolleries,
73
specimen of mine," and he related his ad-
venture at the market. "O husband," she
exclaimed when he had told his story, "had
we not possessed such consummate wisdom
and address, how could we have contrived
means to repair our old house? In future
vex not yourself about domestic concerns,
since by the exercise of our talents we need
never want for anything!"
The exploits of that precious pair may be
compared with the following: An alewife
went to the market with a brood of chickens
and an old black hen. For the hen and one
chicken she could not find a purchaser; so,
before leaving the town, she called upon a
surgeon, to try to effect a sale. He bought
the chicken, but declined taking the hen.
She then asked him if he would draw a tooth
for it. The tooth was drawn, and he ex-
pressed his surprise on finding it was per-
fectly sound. "Oh," said she, "I knew it
was sound; but it was worth while having it
drawn for the old hen." She then called
upon another surgeon, and had a second
tooth drawn, as sound as the other. "What's
to pay?" she inquired. "A shilling," said
the surgeon. Very well," rejoined the
hostess, with a chuckle; "you left a shilling
due in my house the other night, and now
(<
74
The Book of Noodles.
we are quits." "Certainly we are,” responded
the perplexed tooth-drawer, and the delighted
old woman returned to her hostelry, to ac-
quaint all her gossips of how cleverly she
had outwitted the doctors.
Ferrier says, in his Illustrations of Sterne,
that the facetious tales of the Sieur Gaulard
laid the foundation of some of the jests in our
old English collections. A few of them found
their way somehow into Taylor's Wit and
Mirth, and this is one: A monsieur chanced
to meet a lady of his acquaintance, and asked
her how she did and how her good husband
fared, at which she wept, saying that her
husband was in heaven. "In heaven!" quoth
he. "It is the first time that I heard of it, and
I am sorry for it with all my heart."
Similar in its point is a story in Archie
Armstrong's Banquet of Jests: Sitting over
a cup of ale in a winter night, two widows
entered into discourse of their dead husbands,
and after ripping up their good and bad
qualities, saith one of them to the maid, "I
prithee, wench, reach us another light, for my
¹ Archie Armstrong was Court jester to James I.
of England. It is needless, perhaps, to say that
he had no hand in this book of facetiæ, which is
composed for the most part of jests taken out of
earlier collections.
Gothamite Drolleries.
75
husband (God rest his soul!) above all things
loved to see good lights about the house.
God grant him light everlasting!"
"And I
pray you, neighbour," said the other, "let the
maid lay on some more coals or stir up the
fire, for my husband in his lifetime ever loved
to see a good fire. God grant him fire ever-
lasting!"
to "
"
This seems cousin-german to the Arabian
story of two men, one of whom hailed from
the town of Hama (ancient Hamath), the
other from Hums (ancient Emessa). Those
towns are not far apart, but the people of the
former have the reputation of being very
clever, while those of the latter are pro-
verbially as stupid. (And for the proper
understanding of the jest it should perhaps
be explained that the Arabic verb hama means
protect" or defend," the verb hamasa
"roast" or "toast.") These men had
some business of importance with the nearest
magistrate, and set out together on their
journey. The man of Hums, conscious of
his own ignorance, begged his companion to
speak first in the audience, in order that he
might get a hint as to how such a formal
matter should be conducted. Accordingly,
when they came into the pasha's presence,
the man of Hama went forward, and the
pasha asked him, "Where are you from?”
to
76 The Book of Noodles.
44
"Your servant is from Hama," said he. 'May
Allah PROTECT (hama) your excellency!"
The pasha then turned to the other man, and
asked, “And where are you from?" to
which he answered, "Your servant is from
Hums. May Allah ROAST (hamasa) your
excellency!"
Not a few of the Bigarrures of the Sieur
Gaulard are the prototypes of bulls and foolish
sayings of the typical Irishman, which go their
ceaseless round in popular periodicals, and
are even audaciously reproduced as original
in our "comic" journals-save the mark!
To cite some examples:
A friend one day told M. Gaulard that the
Dean of Besançon was dead. "Believe it
not," said he; "for had it been so he would
have told me himself, since he writes to me
about everything."
M. Gaulard asked his secretary one even-
ing what hour it was. Sir," replied the
"
secretary, "I cannot tell
because the sun is set."
you by the dial,
"Well," quoth
M. Gaulard, "and can you not see by the
candle?"
On another occasion the Sieur called from
his bed to a servant desiring him to see if it
wası daylight yet. "There is nosign of day-
Gothamite Drolleries.
77
light," said the servant. "I do not wonder,"
rejoined the Sieur, "that thou canst not see
day, great fool as thou art. Take a candle
and look with it out at the window, and thou
shalt see whether it be day or not.'
""
In a strange house, the Sieur found the
walls of his bedchamber full of great holes.
"This," exclaimed he in a rage, "is the
cursedest chamber in all the world. One may
see day all the night through."
Travelling in the country, his man, to gain
the fairest way, rode through a field sowed
with pease, upon which M. Gaulard cried to
him, "Thou knave, wilt thou burn my horse's
feet? Dost thou not know that about six
weeks ago I burned my mouth with eating
pease, they were so hot?"
A poor man complained to him that he had
had a horse stolen from him. "Why did you
not mark his visage," asked M. Gaulard, "and
the clothes he wore?" (6 Sir," said the man,
"I was not there when he was stolen." Quoth
the Sieur, "You should have left somebody
to ask him his name, and in what place he
resided."
M. Gaulard felt the sun so hot in the midst
of a field at noontide in August that he asked
of those about him, "What means the sun to
be so hot? How should it not keep its heat
till winter, when it is cold weather?"
78
The Book of Noodles.
A proctor, discoursing with M. Gaulard,
told him that a dumb, deaf, or blind man could
not make a will but with certain additional
forms. "I pray you," said the Sieur, "give
me that in writing, that I may send it to a
cousin of mine who is lame."
One day a friend visited the Sieur and found
him asleep in his chair. "I slept," said he,
"only to avoid idleness; for I must always
be doing something."
The Abbé of Poupet complained to him
that the moles had spoiled a fine meadow, and
he could find no remedy for them. "Why,
ɔousin," said M. Gaulard, "it is but paving
your meadow, and the moles will no more
trouble you."
M. Gaulard had a lackey belonging to
Auvergne, who robbed him of twelve crowns
and ran away, at which he was very angry,
and said he would have nothing that came
from that country. So he ordered all that
was from Auvergne to be cast out of the
house, even his mule; and to make the
animal more ashamed, he caused his servants
to take off its shoes and its saddle and
bridle.
Although Taylor's Wit and Mirth is the
most "original" of our old English jest-books
Gothamite Drolleries.
79
-that is to say, it contains very few stories
in common with preceding collections—yet
some of the diverting tales he relates are
traceable to very distant sources, more espe-
cially the following:
A country fellow (that had not walked
much in streets that were paved) came to
London, where a dog came suddenly out
of a house, and furiously ran at him.
The fellow stooped to pick up a stone to
cast at the dog, and finding them all fast
rammed or paved in the ground, quoth he,
"What a strange country am I in, where
the people tie up the stones and let the
dogs loose!"
Three centuries and a half before the
Water Poet heard this exquisitely humorous
story, the great Persian poet Sa'dí related it
in his Gulistán (or Rose-garden), which was
written A.D. 1278:
A poor poet presented himself before the
chief of a gang of robbers, and recited some
verses in his praise. The robber-chief, how-
ever, instead of rewarding him, as he fondly
expected, ordered him to be stripped of his
clothes and expelled from the village. The
dogs attacking him in the rear, the unlucky
bard stooped to pick up a stone to throw at
them, and finding the stones frozen in the
ground, he exclaimed, "What a vile set of
80
The Book of Noodles.
men are these, who set loose the dogs and
fasten the stones!"
Now here we have a very curious instance
of the migration of a popular tale from Persia
-perchance it first set out on its travels from
India-in the thirteenth century, when grave
and reverend seigniors wagged their beards
and shook their portly sides at its recital, to
London in the days of the Scottish Solomon
(more properly dubbed "the wisest fool in
Christendom "!), when Taylor, the Water
Poet, probably heard it told, in some river-side
tavern, amidst the clinking of beer-cans and
the fragrant clouds blown from pipes of
Trinidado, and "put it in his book!" How
it came into England it would be interesting
to ascertain. It may have been brought to
Europe by the Venetian merchants, who
traded largely in the Levant and with the
Moors in Northern Africa.

CHAPTER IV.
GOTHAMITE DROLLERIES (continued).
ALES of sharpers' tricks upon
simpletons do not quite fall within
the scope of the present series of
papers, but there is one, in the
Arabian Nights-not found, however, in our
common English version of that fascinating
story-book-which deserves a place among
noodle-stories, since it is so diverting, is not
very generally known, and is probably the
original of the early Italian novel of the Monk
Transformed, which is ascribed to Michele
Colombo:
A rustic simpleton was walking homeward
dragging his ass after him by the halter,
which a brace of sharpers observing, one
said to his fellow, "Come with me, and I will
take the ass from that man." He then
quietly advanced to the ass, unloosed it from
the halter, and gave the animal to his com-
panion, who went off with it, after which he
put the halter over his own head, and allowed

6
82
The Book of Noodles.
the rustic to drag him for some little distance,
until he with the ass was fairly out of sight,
when he suddenly stopped, and the man
having tugged at the halter several times
without effect, looked round, and, amazed to
see a human being in place of his beast,
exclaimed, "Who art thou?" The sharper
answered, "I was thy ass; but hear my story,
for it is wonderful. I had a good and pious
mother, and one day I came home intoxicated.
Grieved to see me in such a state, she gently
reproved me, but I, instead of being pene-
trated with remorse, beat her with a stick,
whereupon she prayed to Allah, and, in
answer to her supplication, lo! I was trans-
formed into an ass. In that shape I have
continued until this day, when my mother, as
it appears, has interceded for my restoration
to human form, as before." The simpleton,
believing every word of this strange story,
raised his eyes to heaven, saying, "Of a truth
there is no power but from Allah! But, pray,
forgive me for having used thee as I have
done." The sharper readily granted his
forgiveness, and went off to rejoin his com-
panion and dispose of the ass; while the
simpleton returned home, and showing his
wife the bridle, told her of the marvellous
transformation which had occurred. His
wife, in hopes of propitiating Heaven, gave
Gothamite Drolleries.
83
alms and offered up many prayers to avert
evil from them, on account of their having
used a human being as an ass. At length
the simpleton, having remained idle at home
for some time, went one day to the market to
purchase another ass, and on entering the place
where all the animals were fastened, he saw
with astonishment his old ass offered for sale.
Putting his mouth to its ear, he whispered,
"Woe to thee, unlucky! Doubtless thou
hast again been intoxicated; but, by Allah, I
will never buy thee!"
Another noodle-story, of a different class,
in the Arabian Nights, may be here cited in
full from Sir R. F. Burton's translation of
that delightful work, privately printed for the
subscribers, and it will serve, moreover, as
a fair specimen of the admirable manner
in which that ripe scholar has represented in
English the quaint style of his original:
[Quoth one of the learned,] I passed once
by a school wherein a schoolmaster was
teaching children; so I entered, finding him
a good-looking man, and a well-dressed,
when he rose to me and made me sit with
him. Then I examined him in the Korán,
and in syntax and prosody, and lexicography;
and behold, he was perfect in all required of
him; and I said to him, "Allah strengthen
84
The Book of Noodles.
1
thy purpose! Thou art indeed versed in all
that is requisite." Thereafter I frequented
him a while, discovering daily some new
excellence in him, and quoth I to myself,
"This is indeed a wonder in any dominie;
for the wise are agreed upon a lack of wit
in children's teachers." i Then I separated
myself from him, and sought him and visited
him only every few days, till coming to see
him one day, as of wont, I found the school
shut, and made inquiry of his neighbours, who
replied, "Some one is dead in his house." So
I said in my mind, "It behoveth me to pay
him a visit of condolence," and going to his
house, knocked at the door, when a slave-girl
came out to me and asked, "What dost thou
want?" and I answered, "I want thy master."
She replied, "He is sitting alone mourning;
and I rejoined, "Tell him that his friend
So-and-so seeketh to console him." She went
in and told him; and he said, "Admit him.”
So she brought me in to him, and I found
him seated alone, and his head bound with
""
This notion, that schoolmasters "lack wit,"
however absurd, seems to have been entertained
from ancient times, and to be still prevalent in
the East; the so-called jests of Hierokles are all
at the expense of pedants; and the Turkish
typical noodle is Khoja (ie., Teacher) Nasru-'d-
Dín, some of whose "witless devices" shall be
cited presently.
"
85
Gothamite Drolleries.
So I said to him,
"Allah
mourning fillets.
requite thee amply! This is a path all must
perforce tread, and it behoveth thee to take
patience," adding, "but who is dead unto
thee?" He answered, "One who was dearest
of the folk to me, and best beloved." "Perhaps
thy father?" "No." "Thy brother?" "No."
"One of thy kindred?" "No." Then asked
1, "What relation was the dead to thee?"
and he answered, "
My lover." Quoth I to
myself, "This is the first proof to swear by
of his lack of wit." So I said to him, "As-
suredly there be others than she, and fairer;
and he made answer, "I never saw her that
I might judge whether or no there be others
fairer than she." Quoth I to myself, "This
is another proof positive." Then I said to
him, "And how couldst thou fall in love with
one thou hast never seen?" He replied,
"Know that I was sitting one day at the
window, when, lo! there passed by a man,
singing the following distich :
"Umm Amr', thy boons Allah repay!
Give back my heart, be't where it may!'"
The schoolmaster continued, "When I heard
the man humming these words as he passed
along the street, I said to myself, 'Except this
Umm Amrú were without equal in the world,
the poets had not celebrated her in ode and
86
The Book of Noodles.
+
canzon.' So I fell in love with her; but two
days after, the same man passed, singing the
following couplet :
"Ass and Umm Amr' went their way,
Nor she nor ass returned for aye.'
Thereupon I knew that she was dead, and
mourned for her. This was three days ago,
and I have been mourning ever since." So I
left him and fared forth, having assured my-
self of the weakness of the gerund-grinder's
wit. ¹
Here, surely, was the very Father of Folly,
but what shall we say of judges and magis-
trates being sometimes (represented as)
equally witless? Thus we are told, among
the cases decided by a Turkish Kází, that two
men came before him one of whom com-
plained that the other had almost bit his ear
off. The accused denied this, and declared
that the fellow had bit his own ear. After
pondering the matter for some time, the
judge told them to come again two hours
later. Then he went into his private room,
1
¹ Elf Layla wa Layla, or, The Book of a Thousand
Nights and a Night. Translated, with Introduc-
tion, Notes on the Manners and Customs of
Moslem Men, and a Terminal Essay on the
History of The Nights, by R. F. Burton.
Vol. v.
Gothamite Drolleries.
87
and attempted to bring his ear and his mouth
together; but all he did was to fall backwards
and break his head. Wrapping a cloth round
his head, he returned to court, and the two
men coming in again presently, he thus
decided the question: "No man can bite his
own ear, but in trying to do so he may fall
down and break his head.”
A Sinhalese story, which is also well known
in various forms in India, furnishes a still more
remarkable example of forensic sagacity. It
is thus related by the able editor of The
Orientalist, vol. i., p. 191 :
One night some thieves broke into the
house of a rich man, and carried away all
his valuables. The man complained to the
justice of the peace, who had the robbers
captured, and when brought before him,
inquired of them whether they had anything
to say in their defence. "Sir," said they,
(4
we are not to blame in this matter; the
robbery was entirely due to the mason who
built the house; for the walls were so badly
made, and gave way so easily, that we were
quite unable to resist the temptation of
breaking in." Orders were then given to
bring the mason to the court-house. On his
arrival he was informed of the charge brought
against him. "Ah," said he, "the fault is not
mine, but that of the coolie, who made mortar
88
The Book of Noodles
badly." When the coolie was brought, he laid
the blame on the potter, who, he said, had
sold him a cracked chattie, in which he could
not carry sufficient water to mix the mortar
properly. Then the potter was brought before
the judge, and he explained that the blame
should not be laid upon him, but upon a very
pretty woman, who, in a beautiful dress, was
passing at the time he was making the chattie,
and had so riveted his attention, that he forgot
all about the work. When the woman ap-
peared, she protested that the fault was not
hers, for she would not have been in that
neighbourhood at all had the goldsmith sent
home her earrings at the proper time; the
charge, she argued, should properly be brought
against him. The goldsmith was brought, and
as he was unable to offer any reasonable
excuse, he was condemned to be hanged.
Those in the court, however, begged the
judge to spare the goldsmith's life; "for,"
said they, "he is very sick and ill-favoured,
and would not make at all a pretty spectacle."
"But," said the judge, "somebody must be
hanged." Then they drew the attention of
the court to the fact that there was a fat
Moorman in a shop opposite, who was a much
fitter subject for an execution, and asked that
he might be hanged in the goldsmith's stead.
The learned judge, considering that this
Gothamite Drolleries.
89
arrangement would be very satisfactory, gave
judgment accordingly.
If some of the last-cited stories are not
precisely Gothamite drolleries, though all are
droll enough in their way, there can be no
doubt whatever that we have a Sinhalese
brother to the men of Gotham in the follow-
ing: A villager in Ceylon, whose calf had got
its head into a pot and could not get it out
again, sent for a friend, celebrated for his
wisdom, to release the poor animal. The
sagacious friend, taking in the situation at a
glance, cut off the calf's head, broke the pot,
and then delivered the head to the owner of
the calf, saying, "What will you do when I
am dead and gone?"—And we have another
Gothamite in the Kashmirí who bought as
much rice as he thought would suffice for a
year's food, and finding he had only enough
for eleven months, concluded it was better to
fast the other month right off, which he did
accordingly; but he died just before the
month was completed, leaving eleven months'
rice in his house.
The typical noodle of the Turks, the Khoja
Nasru-'d-Dín, is said to have been a subject
of the independent prince of Karaman, at
୨୦
The Book of Noodles.
whose capital, Konya, he resided, and he is
represented as a contemporary of Tímúr
(Tamerlane), in the middle of the fourteenth
century. The pleasantries which are ascribed
to him are for the most part common to all
countries, but some are probably of genuine
Turkish origin. To cite a few specimens:
The Khoja's wife said to him one day, "Make
me a present of a kerchief of red Yemen silk,
to put on my head." The Khoja stretched
out his arms and said, "Like that? Is that
large enough?" On her replying in the affir-
mative he ran off to the bazaar, with his arms
still stretched out, and meeting a man on the
road, he bawled to him, "Look where you
are going, O man, or you will cause me to
lose my measure!"
Another day the Khoja's wife washed his
caftan and spread it upon a tree in the gar-
den of the house. That night the Khoja goes
out, and thinks he sees in the moonlight a
man motionless upon a tree in the garden.
"Give me my bow and arrows," said he to his
wife, and having received them, he shot the
caftan, piercing it through and through, and
then returned into the house. Next morning,
when he discovered that it was his own caftan
he had shot at, he exclaimed, "By Allah,
had I happened to be in it, I should have
killed myself!"
Gothamite Drolleries
91
The Ettrick Shepherd's well-known story
of the two Highlanders and the wild boar has
its exact parallel in the Turkish jest-book, as
follows: One day the Khoja went with his
friend Sheragh Ahmed to the den of a wolf,
in order to take the cubs. Said the Khoja to
Ahmed, "Do you go in, and I will watch
""
without; and Ahmed went in, to take the
cubs in the absence of the old wolf.
But she
came back presently, and had got half-way
into her den when the Khoja seized hold of
her tail. The wolf in her struggles cast up a
great dust into the eyes of Ahmed, who called
out to the Khoja, "Hallo! what does all
this dust mean?" The Khoja replied, "If
the wolf's tail breaks, you will soon know
what the dust means!"
Several of the jests closely resemble "Joe
Millers" told of Irishmen, such as this: It
happened one night, after the Khoja and a
guest had lain down to sleep, that the taper
went out. "O Khoja Effendi," said the guest,
"the taper is gone out. But there is a taper
at your right side. Pray bring it and let us
light it." Quoth the Khoja, "You must surely
be a fool to think that I should know my right
hand in the dark." And this: A thief having
stolen a piece of salted cheese from the Khoja,
he ran immediately and seated himself on the
border of a fountain. Said the people to him,
92
The Book of Noodles.
"O Khoja, what have you come here to look
for in such a hurry?" The Khoja replied,
"The thief will certainly come here to drink
as soon as he has eaten my salted cheese; I
always do so myself."
And here is one of the Gothamite class:
One evening the Khoja went to the well to
draw water, and seeing the moon reflected in
the water, he exclaimed, "The moon has
fallen into the well; I must pull it out." So
he let down the rope and hook, and the hook
became fastened to a stone, whereupon he
exerted all his strength, and the rope broke,
and he fell upon his back. Looking into the
sky, he saw the moon, and cried out joyfully,
"Praise be to Allah! I am sorely bruised, but
the moon has got into its place again."
There is a well-worn jest of an Irishman
who, being observed by a friend to look ex-
ceedingly blank and perplexed, was asked
what ailed him. He replied that he had had a
dream. "Was it a good or a bad dream?”
"Faith," said he, "it was a little of both; but
I'll tell ye. I dreamt that I was with the
Pope, who was the finest gentleman in the
whole district; and after we had conversed
a while, his Holiness axed me, Would I drink?
Thinks I to myself, 'Would a duck swim?'
So, seeing the whisky and the lemons and the
Gothamite Drolleries.
93
sugar on the side-board, I said, I didn't mind
if I took a drop of punch. 'Cold or hot?'
says his Holiness. 'Hot, your Holiness,' says
I. So on that he steps down to the kitchen
for the boiling water, but, bedad, before
he came back, I woke straight up; and
now it's distressing me that I didn't take it
cold!"
We have somewhat of a parallel to this in
a Turkish jest: The Khoja dreamt that
some one gave him nine pieces of money, but
he was not content, and said, "Make it ten."
Then he awoke and found his hands empty.
Instantly closing his eyes again, and holding
out his hand, he said, "I repent; give me
the nine pieces.'
But the Chinese relate the very counter-
part of our Irishman's story. A confirmed
drunkard dreamt that he had been presented
with a cup of excellent wine, and set it by the
fire to warm,2 that he should better enjoy the
flavour of it; but just as he was about to
drink off the delicious draught he awoke.
¹ The Khoja, however, was not such a fool as
we might conclude from the foregoing examples
of his sayings and doings; for, being asked one
day what musical instrument he liked best, he
answered, "I am very fond of the music of plates
and saucepans."
2 In China wine is almost invariably taken hot.
Irishmen generally drink their whisky "nate.'
""
94
The Book of Noodles.
"Fool that I am," he cried, "why was I not
content to drink it cold?”1
The Chinese seem to have as keen a sense
of humour as any other people. They tell a
story, for instance, of a lady who had been
recently married, and on the third day saw
her husband returning home, so she slipped
quietly behind him and gave him a hearty
kiss. The husband was annoyed, and said
she offended all propriety. "Pardon! par-
don!" said she. "I did not know it was you."
Thus the excuse may sometimes be worse than
the offence. There is exquisite humour in
the following noodle-story: Two brothers
were tilling the ground together. The elder,
having prepared dinner, called his brother,
who replied in a loud voice, "Wait till I have
hidden my spade, and I shall at once be with
you." When he joined his elder brother, the
latter mildly reproached him, saying, "When
one hides anything, one should keep silence,
or at least should not cry aloud about it, for
it lays one open to be robbed." Dinner over,
'This and the following specimens of Chinese
stories of simpletons are from "Contes et Bon
Mots extraits d'un livre chinois intitulé Siao li
Siao, traduit par M. Stanislas Julien," (Journal
Asiatique, tom. iv., 1824).
Gothamite Drolleries.
95
the younger went back to the field, and looked
for his spade, but could not find it; so he
ran to his brother and whispered mysteriously
in his ear, "My spade is stolen!"-The
passion for collecting antique relics is thus
ridiculed: A man who was fond of old
curiosities, though he knew not the true from
the false, expended all his wealth in purchas-
ing mere imitations of the lightning-stick of
Tchew-Koung, a glazed cup of the time of the
Emperor Cheun, and the mat of Confucius;
and being reduced to beggary, he carried
these spurious relics about with him, and said
to the people in the streets, "Sirs, I pray you,
give me some coins struck by Taï-Koung.”
Indian fiction abounds in stories of simple-
tons, and probably the oldest extant drolleries
of the Gothamite type are found in the
Játakas, or Buddhist Birth-stories. Assuredly
they were own brothers to our mad men of
Gotham, the Indian villagers who, being
pestered by mosquitoes when at work in the
forest, bravely resolved, according to Játaka
44, to take their bows and arrows and other
weapons and make war upon the troublesome
insects until they had shot dead or cut in
pieces every one; but in trying to shoot the
mosquitoes they only shot, struck, and injured
.
96
The Book of Noodles.
one another. And nothing more foolish is
recorded of the Schildburgers than Somadeva
relates, in his Katha Sarit Ságara, of the
simpletons who cut down the palm-trees:
Being required to furnish the king with a
certain quantity of dates, and perceiving that
it was very easy to gather the dates of a palm
which had fallen down of itself, they set to
work and cut down all the date-palms in their
village, and having gathered from them their
whole crop of dates, they raised them up and
planted them again, thinking they would grow.
In illustration of the apothegm that "fools
who attend only to the words of an order, and
do not understand the meaning, cause much
detriment," is the story of the servants who
kept the rain off the trunks: The camel of a
merchant gave way under its load on a
journey. He said to his servants, "I will go
and buy another camel to carry the half of
this camel's load. And you must remain
here, and take particular care that if it clouds
over the rain does not wet the leather of
these trunks, which are full of clothes." With
these words the merchant left the servants by
the side of the camel and went off, and sud-
denly a cloud came up and began to discharge
rain. Then the fools said, "Our master told
us to take care that the rain did not touch the
leather of the trunks;" and after they had
Gothamite Drolleries.
97
made this sage reflection they dragged the
clothes out of the trunks and wrapped them
round the leather. The consequence was
that the rain spoiled the clothes. Then the
merchant returned, and in a rage said to his
servants, "You rascals! Talk of water!
Why, the whole stock of clothes is spoiled by
the rain!" And they answered him, "You
told us to keep the rain off the leather of
the trunks. What fault have we committed ?”
He answered, "I told you that if the leather
got wet the clothes would be spoiled. I told
you so in order to save the clothes, not the
leather."
The story of the servant who looked after
the door is a farther illustration of the same
maxim. A merchant said to his foolish ser-
vant, "Take care of the door of my shop; I
am going home for a short time." After his
master was gone, the fool took the shop-door
on his shoulder and went off to see an actor
perform. As he was returning his master
met him, and gave him a scolding, and he
answered, "I have taken care of this door, as
you told me."
This jest had found its way into Europe
three centuries ago. It is related of Giufa,
the typical Sicilian booby, and probably came
to England from Italy. This is how it is told
in the Sacke Full of Newes, a jest-book
98 The Book of Noodles.
originally printed in the sixteenth century:
"In the countrey dwelt a Gentlewoman who
had a French man dwelling with her, and he
did ever use to go to Church with her; and
upon a time he and his mistresse were going
to church, and she bad him pull the doore
after him and follow her to the church; and
so he took the doore betweene his armes, and
lifted it from the hooks, and followed his
mistresse with it. But when she looked
behinde her and saw him bring the doore
upon his back, 'Why, thou foolish knave,'
qd she, 'what wilt thou do with the door??
Marry, mistresse,' qd he, 'you bad me pull
the doore after me.' 'Why, fool,' qd she, ‘I
did command thee that thou shouldest make
fast the doore after thee, and not bring it upon
thy back after me.' But after this there was
much good sport and laughing at his sim-
plicity and foolishnesse therein."
•
In the capacity of a merchant the simpleton
does very wonderful things, and plumes him-
self on his sagacity, as we have already seen
in the case of the Arab and his cow. And
here are a brace of similar stories: A foolish
man once went to the island of Katáha to
trade, and among his wares was a quantity of
fragrant aloes-wood. After he had sold his
other goods, he could not find any one to take
the alres-wood off his hands, for the people
Gothamite Drolleries.
99
who live there are not acquainted with that
article of commerce. Then seeing people
buying charcoal from the woodmen, he burnt
his stock of aloes-wood and reduced it to
charcoal. He sold it for the price which
charcoal usually fetched, and returning home,
boasted of his cleverness, and became the
laughing-stock of everybody.-Another block-
head went to the market to sell cotton, but no
one would buy it from him, because it was not
properly cleaned. In the meanwhile he saw
in the bazaar a goldsmith selling gold which
he had purified by heating it, and he saw it
taken by a customer. Seeing that, he threw
his cotton into the fire in order to purify it,
and it was all burned to ashes.
"
There must be few who have not heard of
the Irishman who was hired by a Yarmouth
maltster to help in loading a ship. As the
vessel was about to sail, the Irishman cried
out from the quay, Captain, I lost your
shovel overboard, but I cut a big notch on the
rail-fence, round the stern, just where it went
down, so you will find it when you come
back.”—A similar story is told of an Indian
simpleton. He was sailing in a ship when he
let a silver cup fall from his hand into the
water. Having taken notes of the spot by
observing the eddies and other signs in the
Uor M
100
The Book of Noodles.
water, he said to himself, "I will bring it up
from the bottom when I return." As he was
recrossing the sca, he saw the eddies and
other signs, and thinking he recognised the
spot, he plunged into the water again and
again, to recover his cup, but he only got well
laughed at for his pains.
We have an amusing commentary on the
maxim that "distress is sure to come from
being in the company of fools" in the follow-
ing, from the Canarese story-book entitled
Katha Manjari: A foolish fellow travelled
with a shopkeeper. When it became dark,
the fool lay down in the road to sleep, but
the shopkeeper took shelter in a hollow tree.
Presently some thieves came along the road,
and one struck his feet against the fool's legs,
upon which he exclaimed to his companions,
"What is this? Is it a piece of wood?" The
fool was angry, and said, "Go away! go away!
Is there a knot, well tied, containing five annas,
in the loins of a plank in your house?" The
thieves then seized him, and took away his
annas. As they were moving off, they asked
if the money was good or bad, to which the
noodle replied, "Ha! ha! is it of
"Ha! ha! is it of my money
you speak in that way, and want to know
whether it is good or bad? Look-there is
a shopkeeper in that tree," pointing with his
finger-"show it to him." Then the thieves
Gothamite Drolleries.
ΙΟΙ
went up to the shopkeeper and robbed him
of two hundred pagodas.
In our next story, of the villagers who ate
the buffalo, is exemplified the fact that "fools,
in the conceit of their folly, while they deny
what need not be denied, reveal what it is
their interest to suppress, in order to get
themselves believed." Some villagers took a
buffalo belonging to a certain man, and killed
it in an enclosure outside the village, under a
banyan tree, and dividing the flesh, ate it up.
The owner of the buffalo went and complained
to the king, and he had the villagers who had
eaten the animal brought before him. The
proprietor of the buffalo said before the king,
in their presence, "These men took my buffalo
under a banyan tree near the tank, and killed
and ate it before my eyes," whereupon an
old fool among the villagers said, "There is
no tank or banyan tree in our village. He
says what is not true; where did we kill his
buffalo or eat it?" When the man heard
this, he replied, "What! are there not a banyan
tree and a tank on the east side of the village?
Moreover, you ate my buffalo on the eighth
day of the lunar month." The old fool then
said, "There is no east side or eighth day in
our village." On hearing this, the king laughed,
and said, to encourage the fool, “You are a
truthful person; you never say anything false;
102
The Book of Noodles.
so tell me the truth: did you eat that buffalo,
or did you not?" The old fool answered, "I
was born three years after my father died,
and he taught me skill in speaking. So I
never say what is untrue, my king. It is true
that we ate his buffalo, but all the rest that he
alleges is false." When the king heard this,
he and his courtiers could not restrain their
laughter; but he restored the price of the
buffalo to the man, and fined the villagers.
But sometimes even kings have been arrant
noodles, and their credulity quite as amusing
—or amazing—as that of their subjects. Once
on a time there was a king who had a hand-
some daughter, and he summoned his physi-
cians, and said to them, "Make some prepa-
ration of salutary drugs, which will cause my
daughter to grow up quickly, so that she may
be married to a good husband." The physi-
cians, wishing to get a living out of this royal
fool, replied, "There is a medicine which will
do this, but it can only be procured in a distant
country; and while we are sending for it, we
must shut up your daughter in concealment,
for this is the treatment laid down in such
cases." The king having consented, they
placed his daughter in concealment for several
years, pretending that they were engaged in
procuring the medicine; and when she was
grown up, they presented her to the king, say-
Gothamite Drolleries.
103
ing that she had been made to grow by the
preparation; so the king was highly pleased,
and gave them much wealth.
Between an Indian rájá and an Indian
dhobie, or washerman, there is the greatest
possible difference socially, but individually
-when both are noodles-there may be
sometimes very little to choose; indeed, of
the two, all things considered, the difference,
if any, is perhaps in favour of the humble
cleanser of body-clothes. A favourite story
in various parts of India, near akin to that
last cited, is of a poor washerman and his
young ass. This simpleton one day, passing
a school kept by a mullah, or Muhammedan
doctor of laws, heard him scolding his pupils,
exclaiming that they were still asses, although
he had done so much to make them men.
The washerman thought that here was a rare
chance, for he happened to have the foal of
the ass that carried his bundles of clothes,
which, since he had no child, he should get
the learned mullah to change into a boy.
Thus thinking, he goes next day to the
mullah, and asks him to admit his foal into
his school, in order that it should be changed
into the human form and nature. The pre-
ceptor, seeing the poor fellow's simplicity,
answered that the task was very laborious,
104
The Book of Noodles.
r
1
and he must have a fee of a hundred rupís.
So the washerman went home, and soon
returned leading his foal, which, with the
money, he handed over to the teacher, who
told him to come again on such a day and
hour, when he should find that the change he
desired had been effected. But the washer-
man was so impatient that he went to the
teacher several times before the day ap-
pointed, and was informed that the foal
was beginning to learn manners, that its
ears were already become very much shorter,
and, in short, that it was making satisfactory
progress.
It happened, when the day came on which
he was to receive his young ass transformed
into a fine, well-educated boy, the simpleton
was kept busy with his customers' clothes,
but on the day following he found time to go
to the teacher, who told him it was most un-
fortunate he had not come at the appointed
hour, since the youth had quitted the school
yesterday, refusing to submit any longer to
authority; but the teacher had just learned
that he had been made kází (or judge) in
Cawnpore. At first the washerman was dis-
posed to be angry, but reflecting that, after
all, the business was better even than he
anticipated, he thanked the preceptor for all
his care and trouble, and returned home.
Gothamite Drolleries.
105
Having informed his wife of his good luck,
they resolved to visit their quondam young
foal, and get him to make them some allow-
ance out of his now ample means. So,
shutting up their house, they travelled to
Cawnpore, which they reached in safety.
Being directed to the kází's court, the washer-
man, leaving his wife outside, entered, and
discovered the kází seated in great dignity,
and before him were the pleaders, litigants,
and officers of the court. He had brought a
bridle in one hand and a wisp of hay in the
other; but being unable, on account of the
crowd, to approach the kází, he got tired of
waiting, so, holding up the bridle and the hay,
he cried out, "Khoor! khoor! khoor!" as
he used to do in calling his donkeys, thinking
this would induce the kází to come to him.
But, instead of this, he was seized by the
kází's order and locked up for creating a dis-
turbance.
When the business of the court was over,
the kází, pitying the supposed madman, sent
for him to learn the reason of his strange be-
haviour, and in answer to his inquiries the
simpleton said, "You don't seem to know
me, sir, nor recognise this bridle, which has
been in your mouth so often. You appear to
forget that you are the foal of one of my
asses, that I got changed into a man, for the
гоб
The Book of Noodles.
fee of a hundred rupís, by a learned mullah
who transforms asses into educated men.
You forget what you were, and, I suppose, will
be as little submissive to me as you were to
the mullah when you ran away from him.”
All present were convulsed with laughter:
such a "case was never heard of before.
But the kází, seeing how the mullah had
taken advantage of the poor fellow's sim-
plicity, gave him a present of a hundred
rupís, besides sufficient for the expenses of
his journey home, and so dismissed him.
A party of rogues once found as great a
blockhead in a rich Indian herdsman, to
whom they said, "We have asked the
daughter of a wealthy inhabitant of the town
in marriage for you, and her father has pro-
mised to give her." He was much pleased
to hear this, and gave them an ample reward
for their trouble. After a few days they came
again and told him that his marriage had
taken place. Again he gave them rich
presents for their good news. Some more
days having passed, they said to him, "A
son has been born to you," at which he was
in ecstacies and gave them all his remaining
wealth; but the next day, when he began to
lament, saying, "I am longing to see my son,"
the people laughed at him on account of his
Gothamite Drolleries.
107
having been cheated by the rogues, as if he
had acquired the stupidity of cattle from
having so much to do with them.
It is not generally known that the incident
which forms the subject of the droll Scotch
song "The Barring of the Door," which also
occurs in the Nights of Straparola, is of
Eastern origin. In an Arabian tale, a block-
head, having married his pretty cousin, gave
the customary feast to their relations and
friends. When the festivities were over, he
conducted his guests to the door, and from
absence of mind neglected to shut it before
returning to his wife. "Dear cousin," said
his wife to him when they were alone, "go
and shut the street door." "It would be
strange indeed," he replied, "if I did such a
thing. Am I just made a bridegroom, clothed
in silk, wearing a shawl and a dagger set with
diamonds, and am I to go and shut the door?
Why, my dear, you are crazy. Go and shut
it yourself." "Oh, indeed!" exclaimed the
wife. "Am I, young, robed in a dress, with
lace and precious stones-am I to go and
shut the street door? No, indeed! It is you
who are become crazy, and not I. Come, let
us make a bargain," she continued; "and
let the first who speaks go and fasten the
door." Agreed," said the husband, and im-
mediately he became mute, and the wife too
""
108
The Book of Noodles.
was silent, while they both sat down, dressed
as they were in their nuptial attire, looking
at each other and seated on opposite sofas.
Thus they remained for two hours. Some
thieves happened to pass by, and seeing the
door open, entered and laid hold of whatever
came to their hands. The silent couple heard
footsteps in the house, but opened not their
mouths. The thieves came into the room
and saw them seated motionless and ap-
parently indifferent to all that might take
place. They continued their pillage, there-
fore, collecting together everything valuable,
and even dragging away the carpets from be-
neath them; they laid hands on the noodle
and his wife, taking from their persons every
article of jewellery, while they, in fear of
losing the wager, said not a word. Having
thus cleared the house, the thieves departed
quietly, but the pair continued to sit, uttering
not a syllable. Towards morning a police
officer came past on his tour of inspection,
and seeing the door open, walked in. After
searching all the rooms and finding no person,
he entered their apartment, and inquired the
meaning of what he saw. Neither of them
would condescend to reply. The officer be-
came angry, and ordered their heads to be
cut off. The executioner's sword was about
to perform its office, when the wife cried out,
Gothamite Drolleries.
109
Sir, he is my husband. Do not kill him!"
Oh, oh," exclaimed the husband, overjoyed
and clapping his hands, "you have lost the
wager; go and shut the door." He then ex-
plained the whole affair to the police officer,
who shrugged his shoulders and went away.'
A party of noodles are substituted for the
husband and wife in a Turkish version
of the tale, in the History of the Forty Vazirs.
Some bang-eaters,² while out walking,
found a sequin. They said, "Let us go
to' a cook, and buy food and eat." So they
went and entered a cook's shop and said,
Master, give us a sequin's worth of food."
The cook prepared all kinds of food, and
loaded a porter with it; and the bang-eaters
"
' In another Arabian version, the man desires
his wife to moisten some stale bread she has set
before him for supper, and she refuses. After an
altercation it is agreed that the one who speaks
first shall get up and moisten the bread. A
neighbour comes in, and, to his surprise, finds the
couple dumb; he kisses the wife, but the man
says nothing; he gives the man a blow, but still
he says nothing; he has the man taken before
the kází, but even yet he says nothing; the kází
orders him to be hanged, and he is led off to
execution, when the wife rushes up and cries
out, Oh, save my poor husband!"
wretch," says the man, "go home and moisten
the bread!"
"You
2 Bang is a preparation of hemp and coarse
opium.
ΙΙΟ
The Book of Noodles.
took him without the city, where there was a
ruined tomb, which they entered and sat
down in, and the porter deposited the food
and went away. The bang-eaters began to
partake of the food, when suddenly one of
them said, "The door is open; do one of you
shut it, else some other bang-eaters will come
in and annoy us: even though they be friends,
they will do the deeds of foes." One of them
replied, "Go thou and shut the door,” and
they fell a-quarrelling. At length one said,
"Come, let us agree that whichever of us
speaks or laughs shall rise and fasten the
door." They all agreed to this proposal, and
left the food and sat quite still. Suddenly a
great number of dogs came in; not one of the
bang-eaters stirred or spoke, for if one spoke
he would have to rise and shut the door, so
they spoke not. The dogs made an end of
the food, and ate it all up. Just then another
dog leapt in from without, but no food re-
mained. Now one of the bang-eaters had
partaken of everything, and some of the food
remained about his mouth and on his beard.
That newly come dog licked up the particles
of food that were on the bang-eater's breast,
and while he was licking up those about his
mouth, he took his lip for a piece of meat
and bit it. The bang-eater did not stir, for
he said within himself, "They will tell me to
Gothamite Drolleries.
III
"
shut the door." But to ease his soul he cried,
"Ough!" inwardly cursing the dog. When
the other bang-eaters heard him make that
noise, they said, Rise, fasten the door."
He replied, "After loss, attention! Now that
the food is gone, and my lip is wounded,
what is the use of shutting that door?" and
crying, "Woe! alas!" they each went in a
different direction.¹
A similar story is known in Kashmir: Five
friends chanced to meet, and all having
leisure, they decided to go to the bazaar and
purchase a sheep's head, and have a great
feast in the house of one of the party, each
of whom subscribed four annas. The head
was bought, but while they were returning to
the house it was remembered that there was
not any butter. On this one of the five pro-
posed that the first of them that should break
silence by speaking should go for the butter.
Now it was no light matter to have to retrace
one's steps back to the butter-shop, as the
way was long and the day was very hot.
they all five kept strict silence. Pots were
cleaned, the fire was prepared, and the head
laid thereon. Now and then one would
cough, and another would groan, but never a
tongue uttered a word, though the fire was
So
'From Mr. E. J. W. Gibb's translation of the
Forty Vazirs (London: 1886).
II 2 The Book of Noodles.
fast going out, and the head was getting burnt,
owing to there being no fat or butter where-
with to grease the pot. Thus matters were
when a policeman passed by, and, attracted
by the smell of cooking, looked in at the win-
dow, and saw these five men perfectly silent
and sitting around a burnt sheep's head. Not
knowing the arrangement, he supposed that
these men were either mad or were thieves,
and so he inquired how they came there, and
how they obtained the head. Not a word
was uttered in reply. "Why are you squat-
ting there in that stupid fashion?" shouted
the policeman. Still no reply. Then the
policeman, full of rage that these wretched
men should thus mock at his authority, took
them all off straight to the police inspec-
tor's office. On arrival the inspector asked
them the reason of their strange behaviour,
but he also got no reply. This rather tried
the patience and temper of the man of
authority, who was generally feared, and
flattered, and bribed. So he ordered one of
the five to be immediately flogged. The poor
fool bore it bravely, and uttered never a
sound; but when the blows repeatedly fell on
the same wounded parts, he could endure no
longer, and cried out, “Oh! oh! Why do you
beat me? Enough, enough! Is it not enough
that the sheep's head has been spoiled?'
Gothamite Drolleries.
113
His four associates now cried out, "Go to
the bazaar and fetch the butter."
s
gh
There is quite as droll a version current
among the people of Ceylon, to the following
effect: A gentleman once had in his empl-
ment twenty-five idiots. In the old
it was customary with
with Sinhalese
Sinhalese
families not to allow their servants to eat
from plates, but every day they were supplied
with plantain leaves, from which they took
their food. After eating, they were accus-
tomed to shape the leaf into the form of a
cup and drink out of it. Now this gentle-
man's house the duty of providing the leaves
devolved upon the twee rive idiots, who
were scarcely fit for an other work. One
day, when they had gone into the garden to
cut the leaves, 'hey spoke among themselves
and said, "Why should we, every one of us,
trouble ourselves to fetch plantain leaves,
when one only could very easily do it? Let
us therefore lie down on the ground and sleep
¹ Knowles' Dictionary of Kashmiri Proverbs and
Sayings, pp. 197-8. The article bought by the
five men is called a hír, which Mr. Knowles says
"is the head of any animal used for food," and a
sheep's head were surely fitting food for such
noodles. Mr. Knowles makes it appear that the
whole affair of keeping silence was a mere jest,
but we have before seen that it is decidedly
meant for a noodle-story.
.8
114
The Book of Noodles.
like dead men, and let him who first utters a
sound or opens his eyes undertake the work."
It was no sooner said than done. The men
lay in a heap like so many logs. At break-
fast-time that day the hungry servants went
to the kitchen for their rice, only to be
disappointed. No leaves were forthcoming
on which to distribute the food, and a com-
plaint was made to the master that the
twenty-five idiots had not returned to the
house since they went out in the morning.
Search was at once made, and they were
found fast asleep in the garden. After vainly
endeavouring to rouse them, the master
concluded that they were dead, and ordered
his servants to dig a deep hole and bury
them. A grave was then dug, and the idiots
were, one by one, thrown into it, but still
there was no noise or motion on their part.
At length, when they were all put into the
grave, and were being covered up, a tool
employed by one of the servants hit sharply
by accident against the leg of one of the
idiots, who then involuntarily moaned. There-
upon all the others exclaimed, "You were
the first to utter a sound; therefore from
henceforth you must take upon yourself the
duty of providing the plantain leaves."
It has already been remarked that a literary
¹ The Orientalist, 1884, p. 136.
1
Gothamite Drolleries.
115
Italian version of the Silent Couple is found
in the Nights of Straparola, but there are
other variants orally current among the com
mon people in different parts of Italy. This
is one from Venice: There were once a
husband and a wife. The former said one
day to the latter, "Let us have some fritters.
She replied, "What shall we do for a frying-
pan ?"
"Go and borrow one from my god-
mother." "You go and get it; it is only
a little way off." "Go yourself, and I will
take it back when we are done with it." So
she went and borrowed the pan, and when
she returned said to her husband, "Here is
the pan, but you must carry it back." So
they cooked the fritters, and after they had
eaten, the husband said, "Now let us go to
work, both of us, and the one who speaks first
shall carry back the pan." Then she began
to spin, and he to draw his thread-for he
was a shoemaker-and all the time keeping
silence, except that when he drew his thread
he said, "Leulerò! leulerò!" and she, spin-
ning, answered, "Picicì! picicì! piciciò!”
And they said not another word. Now there
happened to pass that way a soldier with
a horse, and he asked a woman if there was
any shoemaker in that street. She said there
was one near by, and took him to the house.
The soldier asked the shoemaker to come
116
The Book of Noodles,
and cut his horse a girth, and he would pay
him. The latter made no answer but “Leu-
lerò! leulerò!" and his wife "Picicì! picicì!
piciciò!" Then the soldier said, "Come and
cut my horse a girth, or I will cut your head
off." The shoemaker only answered, "Leu-
lerò! leulerò!" and his wife "Picicì! picicì!
piciciò!" Then the soldier began to grow
angry, and seized his sword, and said to the
shoemaker, "Either come and cut my horse
a girth, or I will cut your head off." But to
no purpose.
The shoemaker did not wish to
be the first one to speak, and only replied,.
"Leulerò! leulerò!" and his wife "Picicì!
picici! piciciò!" Then the soldier got mad in
good earnest, seized the shoemaker's head,
and was going to cut it off. When his wife
saw that, she cried out, "Ah, don't, for
mercy's sake!" "Good!" exclaimed her
husband, "good! Now you go and carry the
pan back to my godmother, and I will go and
cut the horse's girth."
In a Sicilian version the man and wife fry
some fish, and then set about their respective
work-shoemaking and spinning-and the
one who finishes first the piece of work begun
is to eat the fish. While they are singing
and whistling at their work, a friend comes
along, who knocks at the door, but receives
no answer. Then he enters and speaks to
Gothamite Drolleries.
117
them, but still no reply. Finally, in anger,
he sits down at the table, and eats up all the
fish himself.'
Thus, it will be observed, the droll incident
which forms the subject of the old Scotch
song of "The Barring of the Door" is of
world-wide celebrity.
Gothamite stories appear to have been
familiar throughout Europe during the later
Middle Ages, if we may judge from a chapter
of the Gesta Romanorum, in which the
monkish compiler has curiously "moralised"
the actions of three noodles:
""
We read in the "Lives of the Fathers
that an angel showed to a certain holy man
three men labouring under a triple fatuity.
The first made a faggot of wood, and because
it was too heavy for him to carry, he added
to it more wood, hoping by such means to
make it light. The second drew water with
great labour from a very deep well with
a sieve, which he incessantly filled. The
third carried a beam in his chariot, and,
wishing to enter his house, whereof the gate
was so narrow and low that it would not
admit him, he violently whipped his horse
until they both fell together into a deep well.
¹ Crane's Italian Popular Tales, pp. 284-5.
118
The Book of Noodles.
Having shown this to the holy man, the
angel said, “What think you of these three
men?" "That they are fools," answered he.
"Understand, however," returned the angel,
"that they represent the sinners of this world.
The first describes that kind of men who from
day to day do add new sins to the old,
because they cannot bear the weight of those
which they already have. The second man
represents those who do good, but do it
sinfully, and therefore it is of no benefit.
And the third person is he who would enter
the kingdom of heaven with all his world of
vanities, but is cast down into hell."
And now a few more Indian and other
stories of the Gothamite class to conclude
the present section. In Málava there were
two Bráhman brothers, and the wealth in-
herited from their father was left jointly
between them. And while they were dividing
that wealth they quarrelled about one having
too little and the other having too much, and
they made a teacher learned in the Vedas
arbitrator, and he said to them, "You must
divide everything your father left into two
halves, so that you may not quarrel about the
inequality of the division." When the two
fools heard this, they divided every single
Gothamite Drolleries.
119
thing into two equal parts-house, beds, in
fact, all their property, including their cattle.
Henry Stephens (Henri Estienne), in the
Introduction to his Apology for Herodotus,'
relates some very amusing noodle-stories,
such as of him who, burning his shins before
the fire, and not having wit enough to go
back from it, sent for masons to remove the
chimney; of the fool who ate the doctor's
prescription, because he was told to "take
it; " of another wittol who, having seen one
spit upon iron to try whether it was hot, did
likewise with his porridge; and, best of all,
he tells of a fellow who was hit on the back
with a stone as he rode upon his mule, and
cursed the animal for kicking him. This last
exquisite jest has its analogue in that of the
Irishman who was riding on an ass one fine
day, when the beast, by kicking at the flies
that annoyed him, got one of its hind feet
¹A separate work from the Apologie pour
Herodote. Such was the exasperation of the
French clerics at the bitter truths set forth in it,
that the author had to flee the country. An
English translation, entitled "A World of Won-
ders; or, an Introdvction to a Treatise tovch-
ing the Conformitie of Ancient and Modern
Wonders; or, a Preparative Treatise to the
'Apologie for Herodotus,'" etc., was published at
London in 1607, folio, and at Edinburgh 1608,
also folio. The Apologie bour Herodote was
printed at the Hague.
120 The Book of Noodles.
entangled in the stirrup, whereupon the rider
dismounted, saying, "Faith, if you're going
to get up, it's time I was getting down."
The poet Ovid alludes to the story of Ino
persuading the women of the country to roast
the wheat before it was sown, which may
have come to India through the Greeks, since
we are told in the Katha Sarit Ságara of
a foolish villager who one day roasted some
sesame seeds, and finding them nice to eat,
he sowed a large quantity of roasted seeds,
hoping that similar ones would come up.
The story also occurs in Coelho's Contes
Portuguezes, and is probably of Buddhistic
origin. And an analogous story is told of an
Irishman who gave his hens hot water, in
order that they should lay boiled eggs!


CHAPTER V.
THE SILLY Son.

MONG the favourite jests of all
peoples, from Iceland to Japan,
from India to England, are the
droll adventures and mishaps of
the silly son, who contrives to muddle every-
thing he is set to do. In vain does his poor
mother try to direct him in "the way he should
go": she gets him a wife, as a last resource;
but a fool he is still, and a fool he will always
be. His blunders and disasters are chronicled
in penny chap-books and in nursery rhymes,
of infinite variety. Who has not heard how
Simple Simon went a-fishing
For to catch a whale,
ut all the water he had got
Was in his mother's pail?
an adventure which recalls another nursery
rhyme regarding Simon's still more celebrated
prototypes:
122
The Book of Noodles.
Three men of Gotham
Went to sea in a bowl;
If the bowl had been stronger,
My tale had been longer.
Then there is the prose history of Simple
Simon's Misfortunes; or, his Wife Marjory's
Outrageous Cruelty, which tells (1) of Simon's
wedding, and how his wife Marjory scolded
him for putting on his roast-meat clothes (¿.e.,
Sunday clothes) the very next morning after
he was married; (2) how she dragged him
up the chimney in a basket, a-smoke-drying,
wherein they used to dry bacon, which made
him look like a red herring; (3) how Simon
lost a sack of corn as he was going to the mill
to have it ground; (4) how Simon went to
market with a basket of eggs, but broke them
by the way also how he was put into the
stocks; (5) how Simon's wife cudgelled him for
not bringing her money for the eggs; (6) how
Simon lost his wife's pail and burnt the
bottom of her kettle; (7) how Simon's wife
sent him to buy two pounds of soap, but going
over the bridge, he let his money fall in the river:
also how a ragman ran away with his clothes.
No wonder if, after this crowning misfortune,
poor Simon "drank a bottle of sack, to poison
himself, as being weary of his life"!
Again, we have The Unfortunate Son; or,
The Silly Son.
123
a Kind Wife is worth Gold, being full of
Mirth and Pastime, which commences thus:
There was a man but one son had,
And he was all his joy;
But still his fortune was but bad,
Though he was a pretty boy.
His father sent him forth one day
To feed a flock of sheep,
And half of them were stole away
While he lay down asleep!
Next day he went with one Tom Goff
To reap as he was seen,
When he did cut his fingers off,
The sickle was so keen !
Another of the chap-book histeries of
noodles is that of Simple John and his Twelve
Misfortunes, an imitation of Simple Simon;
it was still popular amongst the rustics of
Scotland fifty years ago.
The adventures of Silly Matt, the Nor-
wegian counterpart of our typical English
booby, as related in Asbjornson's collection
of Norse folk-tales, furnish some curious
examples of the transmission of popular
fictions:
The mother of Silly Matt tells him one day
that he should build a bridge across the river
124
The Book of Noodles.
and take toll of every one who wished to go
over it; so he sets to work with a will, and
when the bridge is finished, stands at one
end—“ at the receipt of custom." Three men
come up with loads of hay, and Matt demands
toll of them, so they each give him a wisp of
hay. Next comes a pedlar, with all sorts of
small wares in his pack, and Matt gets from him
two needles. On his return home his mother
asks him what he has got that day. "Hay and
needles," says Matt. Well! and what had
he done with the hay? "I put some of it in
my mouth," quoth he, "and as it tasted like
grass, I threw it into the river." She says he
ought to have spread it on the byre-floor.
Very good," replies the dutiful Matt; "I'll
remember that next time." And what had he
done with the needles? He stuck them into
the hay. "Ah," says the mother, "you should
rather have stuck them in and out of your cap,
and brought them home to me." Well! well!
Matt will not forget to do so next time. The
following day a man comes to the bridge with
a sack of meal and gives Matt a pound of it;
then comes a smith, who gives him a gimlet:
the meal he spread on the byre-floor, and the
gimlet he stuck in and out of his cap. His
mother tells him he should have come home
for a bucket to hold the meal, and the gimlet
he should have put up his sleeve. Very good!
The Silly Son.
125
Matt will not forget next time. Another day
some men come to the bridge with kegs of
brandy, of which Matt gets a pint, and pours
it into his sleeve; next comes a man driving
some goats and their young ones, and gives
Matt a kid, which he treads down into a
bucket. His mother says he should have led
the goat home with a cord round its neck, and
put the brandy in a pail. Next day he gets a
pat of butter and drags it home with a string.
After this his mother despairs of his improve-
ment, till it occurs to her that he might not be
such a noodle if he had a wife. So she bids
him go and see whether he cannot find some
lass who will take him for a husband. Should
he meet any folk on his way, he ought to say
to them, "God's peace!” Matt accordingly
sets off in quest of a wife, and meets a she-wolf
and her seven cubs. "God's peace!" says
Matt, and then returns home. When his
mother learns of this, she tells him he should
have cried, "Huf! huf! you jade wolf! "
Next day he goes off again, and meeting a
bridal party, he cries, "Huf! huf! you jade
wolf!" and goes back to his mother and ac-
quaints her of this fresh adventure. "O you
great silly!" says she; "you should have said,
'Ride happily, bride and bridegroom!"" Once
more Matt sets out to seek a wife, and seeing
on the road a bear taking a ride on a horse,
126 The Book of Noodles.
he exclaims joyfully, "Ride happily, bride
and bridegroom!" and then returns home. His
mother, on hearing of this new piece of folly,
tells him he should have cried, "To the devil
with you!" Again he sets out, and meeting
a funeral procession, he roars, "To the devil
with you!" His mother says he should have
cried, "May your poor soul have mercy!"
and sends him off for the fifth time to look for
a lass.
On the road he sees some gipsies
busy skinning a dead dog, upon which he
piously exclaims, "May your poor soul have
mercy!" His mother now goes herself to
get him a wife, finds a lass that is willing to
marry him, and invites her to dinner. She
privately tells Matt how he should comport
himself in the presence of his sweetheart; he
should cast an eye at her now and then. Matt
understands her instruction most literally:
stealing into the sheepfold, he plucks out the
eyes of all the sheep and goats, and puts them
in his pocket. When he is seated beside his
sweetheart, he casts a "sheep's eye" at her,
which hits her on the nose.¹
This last incident, as we have seen, occurs
in the Tales of the Men of Gotham (ante,
p. 41), and it is also found in a Venetian
¹ Abridged from the story of "Silly Matt" in
Sir George W. Dasent's Tales from the Fjeld,
The Silly Son.
127
story (Bernoni, Fiabe, No. 11), entitled “The
Fool," of which the following is the first
part:
Once upon a time there was a mother who
had a son with little brains. One morning
she said, "We must get up early, for we have
to make bread." So they both rose early, and
began to make bread. The mother made the
loaves, but took no pains to make them the
same size. Her son said to her finally, "How
small you have made this loaf, mother."
Oh," said she, "it does not matter whether
they are big or little, for the proverb says,
Large and small, all must go to mass.
"Good! good!" said her son. When the
bread was made, instead of taking it to the
baker's, the son took it to the church, for it
was the hour for mass, saying, "My mother
said that, 'large and small, all must go to
mass.””
So he threw the loaves down in the
middle of the church. Then he went home
to his mother, and said, "I have done what
you told me to do." "Good! Did you take
the bread to the baker's?" "O mother, if
you had seen how they all looked at me!"
"You might also have cast an eye on them in
return," said his mother. "Wait; wait. I will
cast an eye at them too," he exclaimed, and
went to the stable and cut out the eyes of all
the animals, and putting them in a handker-
128 The Book of Noodles.
chief, went to the church, and when any man
or woman looked at him, he threw an eye at
them.¹
Silly Matt has a brother in Russia, accord-
ing to M. Leger's Contes Populaires Slaves,
published at Paris in 1882: An old man and
his wife had a son, who was about as great a
noodle as could be. One day his mother said
to him, "My son, thou shouldst go about
among people, to get thyself sharpened and
rubbed down a little." "Yes, mother," says
he; "I'm off this moment." So he went to
the village, and saw two men threshing pease.
He ran up to them, and rubbed himself now
on one and then on the other. "No non-
sense!” cried the men. "Get away." But he
continued to rub himself on them, till at last
they would stand it no longer, and beat him
with their flails so lustily that he could hardly
crawl home. "What art thou crying about,
child?" asked his mother. He related his
misfortune. "
Ah, my child," said she, "how
silly thou art! Thou shouldst have said to
them, 'God aid you, good men! Do you wish
me to help you to thresh?' and then they
would have given thee some
pease for thy
1 Professor Crane's Italian Popular Tales,
p. 302. This actual throwing of eyes occurs in
the folk-tales of Europe generally.
The Silly Son.
129
"
trouble, and we should have had them to cook
and eat." On another occasion the noodle
again went through the village, and met some
people carrying a dead man. May God aid
you, good men!" he exclaimed. "Do you
wish me to help you to thresh?" But he got
himself well thrashed once more for this ill-
timed speech. When he reached home, he
howled, "They've felled me to the ground,
beaten me, and plucked my beard and hair!"
and told of his new mishap. "Ah, noodle!"
said his mother, "thou shouldst have said,
'God give peace to his soul!' Thou shouldst
have taken off thy bonnet, wept, and fallen
upon thy knees. They would then have given
thee meat and drink." Again he went to the
village, and met a marriage procession. So
he took off his bonnet, and cried with all his
might, "God grant peace to his soul!" and
then burst into tears. "What brute is this?"
said the wedding company. "We laugh and
amuse ourselves, and he laments as if he were
at a funeral." So they leaped out of the car-
riages, and beat him soundly on the ribs.
Home he returned, crying, "They've beaten
me, thrashed me, and torn my beard and
hair!" and related what had happened.
" 'My
son," said his mother, "thou shouldst have
leaped and danced with them." The next
time he went to the village he took his bag-
9
130
The Book of Noodles.
pipe under his arm. At the end of the street
a cart-shed was on fire. The noodle ran to
the spot, and began to play on his bagpipe
and to dance and caper about, for which he
was abused as before. Going back to his
mother in tears, he told her how he had fared.
"My son," said she, "thou shouldst have
carried water and thrown it on the fire, like
the other folks." Three days later, when his
ribs were well again, the noodle went through
the village once more, and seeing a man roast-
ing a little pig, he seized a vessel of water,
ran up with it, and threw the water on the
fire. This time also he was beaten, and when
he got home, and told his mother of his ill-
luck, she resolved never again to allow him to
go abroad; so he remains by the fireside, as
great a fool as ever.
This species of noodle is also known in
Japan. He is the hero of a farce entitled
Hone Kaha, or Ribs and Skin, which has
been done into English by Mr. Basil Hall
Chamberlain, in his Classical Poetry of the
Japanese. The rector of a Buddhist temple tells
his curate that he feels he is now getting too
old for the duties of his office, and means to
resign the benefice in his favour. Before re-
tiring to his private chamber, he desires the
curate to let him know if any persons visit
The Silly Son.
131
the temple, and bids him, should he be in
want of information regarding any matter, to
come to him. A parishioner calls to borrow an
umbrella. The curate lends him a new one, and
then goes to the rector and informs him of this
visitor. "You have done wrong," says the rector.
"You ought to have said that you should
have been happy to comply with such a small
request, but, unfortunately, the rector was
walking out with it the other day, when, at a
place where four roads meet, a sudden gust
of wind blew the skin to one side and the
ribs to another; we have tied the ribs and
skin together in the middle, and hung it from
the ceiling. Something like that,” adds the
rector, "something with an air of truth about
it, is what you should have said." Next comes
another parishioner, who wishes to borrow a
horse. The curate replies with great polite-
ness, "The request with which you honour
me is a mere trifle, but the rector took it out
with him a few days since, and coming to the
junction of four cross roads, a gust of wind
blew the ribs to one side and the skin to
another, and we have tied them together, and
hung them from the ceiling; so I fear it would
not suit your purpose." "It is a horse I want,"
said the man. "
Precisely-a horse: I am
aware of it," quoth the curate, and the man
went off, not a little perplexed, after which
132
The Book of Noodles.
the curate reports this new affair to the rector,
who says it was to an umbrella, not to a horse,
that such a story was applicable. Should any
one come again to borrow a horse, he ought
to say, "I much regret that I cannot comply
with your request. The fact is, we lately
turned him out to grass, and becoming frolic-
some, he dislocated his thigh, and is now
lying, covered with straw, in a corner of the
stable." "Something like that,"adds the rector,
"something with an air of truth about it, is
what you should say." A third parishioner
comes to invite the rector and the curate to a
feast at his house. "For myself," says the
curate, "I promise to come; but I fear it will
not be convenient for the rector to accompany
me." "I presume then," says the man, "that
he has some particular business on hand?”
"No, not any particular business," answers
the curate; "but the truth is, we lately turned
him out to grass, and becoming frisky, he dis-
located his thigh, and now lies in a corner of
the stable, covered with straw." "I spoke of
the rector," says the parishioner. "Yes, of
the rector. I quite understand," responds the
curate, very complaisantly, upon which the
man goes away, not knowing what to make of
such a strange account of the rector's condition.
This last affair puts the rector into a fury, and
he cuffs his intended successor, exclaiming,
The Silly Son.
133
"When was I ever frisky, I should like to
know?"
As great a jolterhead as any of the fore-
going was the hero of a story in Cazotte's
"Continuation" of the Arabian Nights, entitled
L'Imbécille; ou, L'Histoire de Xailoun."
This noodle's wife said to him one day, "Go
and buy some pease, and don't forget that it
is pease you are to buy; continually repeat
'Pease!' till you reach the market-place." So
he went off, with "Pease! pease!" always in
his mouth. He passed the corner of a street
where a merchant who had pearls for sale
was proclaiming his wares in a loud voice,
saying, "In the name of the Prophet, pearls!"
Xailoun's attention was at once attracted by
the display of pearls, and at the same time
he was occupied in retaining the lesson his
wife had taught him, and putting his hand in
¹ In Le Cabinet des Fées, 1788 (tome xxxviii.,
p. 337 ff.).—There can be no such name as Xailoun
in Arabic; that of the noodle's wife, Oitba, may be
intended for "Utba." Cazotte has so Frenchified
the names of the characters in his tales as to
render their identification with the Arabic
originals (where he had any such) often impos-
sible. Although this story is not found in any
known Arabian text of the Book of the Thousand
and One Nights, yet the incidents for the most
part occur in several Eastern story-books.
Uor M
1
134
The Book of Noodles.
the box of pearls, he cried out, "Pease!
pease!" The merchant, supposing Xailoun
played upon him and depreciated his pearls
by wishing to make them pass for false ones,
struck him a severe blow. "Why do you
strike me?" said Xailoun.
"Because you
insult me," answered the merchant. "Do you
suppose I am trying to deceive people?"
"No," said the noodle. “But what must I say,
then?" "If you will cry properly, say as I
do, 'Pearls, in the name of the Prophet!""
He next passed by the shop of a merchant
from whom some pearls had been stolen, and
his manner of crying, "Pearls!" etc., which
was not nearly so loud as usual, appeared to the
merchant very suspicious. "The man who has
stolen my pearls," thought he, "has probably
recognised me, and when he passes my shop
lowers his voice in crying the goods." Upon
this suspicion he ran after Xailoun, and stop-
ping him, said, "Show me your pearls." The
poor fool was in great confusion, and the
merchant thought he had got the thief. The
supposed seller of pearls was soon surrounded
by a great crowd, and the merchant at last
discovered that he was a perfect simpleton.
"Why," said he, "do you cry that you sell
pearls?" "What should I say, then?" asked
Xailoun. "It is not true," said the merchant,
not listening to him. "It is not true,"
Maou
The Silly Son.
135
exclaimed the noodle. "Let me repeat, 'It is
not true,' that I may not forget it;" and as he
went on he kept crying, "It is not true." His
way led him towards a place where a man
was proclaiming, "In the name of the Pro-
phet, lentils!" Xailoun, induced by curiosity,
went up to the man, his mouth full of the last
words he remembered, and putting his hand
into the sack, cried, "It is not true." The
sturdy villager gave him a blow that caused
him to stagger, saying, "What d'ye mean by
giving me the lie about my goods, which I
both sowed and reaped myself?" Quoth the
noodle, "I have only tried to say what 1
ought to say." "Well, then,” rejoined the
dealer, "you ought to say, as I do, 'Lentils,
in the name of the Prophet!" So our noodle
at once took up this new cry, and proceeded
on his way till he came to the bank of the
river, where a fisherman had been casting his
net for hours, and had frequently changed his
place, without getting any fish. Xailoun, who
was amused with every new thing he saw,
began to follow the fisherman, and, that he
should not forget his lesson, continued to
repeat, "Lentils, in the name of the Pro-
phet!" Suddenly the fisherman made a pre-
tence of spreading his net, in order to wring
and dry it, and having folded in his hand the
rope to which it was fastened, he took hold
136
The Book of Noodles.
of the simpleton and struck him some furious
blows with it, saying, "Vile sorcerer! cease
to curse my fishing." Xailoun struggled, and
at length disengaged himself. "I am no
sorcerer," said he. "Well, if you are not,"
answered the fisherman, "why do you cause
me bad luck by your words every time I throw
my net?" "I didn't mean to bring you bad
luck," said the noodle. "I only repeat what
I was told to repeat." The fisherman then
concluded that some of his enemies, who
wished to do him an ill turn without expos-
ing themselves, had prevailed upon this poor
fellow to come and curse his fishing, so he
said, "I am sorry, brother, for having beaten
you, but you were wrong to pronounce the
words you did, thereby bringing bad luck to
me, who never did you any harm." Quoth
the simpleton, "I only tried to say the words
my wife told me not to forget." "Do you
know them?" "Yes." "
Well, place your-
self beside me, and each time I cast my net
you must say, 'In the name of the Prophet,
instead of one, seven of the greatest and
best!'" But Xailoun thought what his wife
had said was not so long as that. "Oh, yes,
it was," said the fisherman; "and take care
you don't miss a single word, and I shall give
you some of the fish to take home with you."
That he might not forget, Xailoun repeated it
The Silly Son.
137
very loud, but as he was afraid of the cord
whenever he saw the fisherman drawing in
his net, he ran away as fast as he could, but
still repeating, “In the name of the Prophet,
instead of one, seven of the greatest and
best!" These words he pronounced in the
midst of a crowd of people, through which
the corpse of the kází (magistrate, or judge)
was being carried to the burying ground, and
the mullahs who surrounded the bier, scandal-
ised by what they thought a horrible impre-
cation, exclaimed, “How darest thou, wicked
wretch, thus blaspheme? Is it not enough
that Death has taken one of the greatest men
of Baghdad?" The poor simpleton was skulk-
ing off in fear and trembling, when his sleeve
was pulled by an aged slave, who told him
that he ought to say, "May Allah preserve
his body and save his soul!" So our noodle
went on, repeating this new cry till he came
to a street where a dead ass was being carted
away. 'May Allah preserve his body and
save his soul!" he exclaimed. "How he
blasphemes!" said the folk, and they set upon
him with their fists and sticks, and gave him
a sound drubbing. At length he got clear of
them, and by chance came to the house of
his wife's mother, but he only ventured to
stand at the door and peep within. He was
recognised, however, and asked what he
"
138
The Book of Noodles.
would have to eat-goat's flesh ? rice? pease?
Yes, it was pease he wanted, and having got
some, he hastened home, and after relating
all his mishaps, informed his wife, that her
sister was very sick. His wife, having pre-
pared herself to go to her mother's house,
tells the simpleton to rock the baby should it
awake and cry; feed the hen that was sitting;
if the ass was thirsty, give her to drink; shut
the door, and take care not to go to sleep, lest
robbers should come and plunder the house.
The baby awakes, and Xailoun rocks it to sleep
again; so far, well. The hen seems uneasy;
he concludes she is troubled with insects, like
himself. So he takes up the hen, and think-
ing the best way to kill the insects was to
stick a pin into them, he unluckily kills the
hen. This was a serious matter, and while
he considers what he should do in the circum-
"
stances, the ass begins to bray. 'Ah," says
he, "I've no time to attend to you just now;
but when I am on your back, you can carry
me to the river." Then he opened the door
and let out the ass and her colt. After this
he sat down on the eggs, and took the baby
in his arms. His wife returning, knocks at
the door. "Let me in, you fool," she cries.
"I can't, for I am nursing the baby and hatch-
ing the eggs." At length she contrived to
force open the door, and running up to her
The Silly Son.
139
idiot of a husband, fetched him a blow that
caused him to crush all the half-hatched eggs.
Luckily she had met the ass and her foal on
the road, so the amount of mischief done by
her stupid spouse in her absence was not so
great, all things considered.'
The misadventures of the Arabian idiot in
his expedition to purchase pease present a
close analogy to those of the typical English
booby, only the latter end tragically:
A woman sent her son one day to buy a
sheep's head and pluck, and, lest he should
forget his message, he kept bawling loudly as
he went along, "Sheep's head and pluck!
sheep's head and pluck!" In getting over a
stile he fell and hurt himself, and forgot what
he was sent for, so he stood a little to con-
sider; and at last he thought he recollected
1 On a similar occasion Giufà, the Sicilian
brother to the Arabian fool, did somewhat more
mischief. Once his mother went to church and
told him to make some porridge for his baby-
sister. Giufà made a great pot of porridge and
fed the baby with it, and burned her mouth so
that she died. Another time his mother on
leaving home told him to feed the hen that was
sitting and put her back in the nest, so that the
eggs should not get cold. Giufà stuffed the hen
with food so that he killed her, and then sat on
the eggs himself until his mother returned.—See
Crane's Italian Popular Tales, pp. 296-7.
140
The Book of Noodles.
"
it, and began to shout, "Liver and lights and
gall and all!" which he was repeating when
he came up to a man who was very sick.
The man, thinking the booby was mocking
him, laid hold of him, and after cuffing him,
bade the booby cry, "Pray God, send no
more up!" So he ran along uttering these
words till he came to a field where a man was
sowing wheat, who, on hearing what he took
for a
curse upon his labour, seized and
thrashed him, and told him to repeat, "Pray
God, send plenty more!" So the young
jolterhead at once changed his tune," and
was loudly singing out these words when he
met a funeral. The chief mourner punished
him for what he thought his fiendish wish, and
bade him say, "Pray God, send the soul to
heaven!" which he was bawling when he met
a he and a she-dog going to be hanged.
The good people who heard him were greatly
shocked at his seeming profanity, and striking
him, strictly charged him to cry, "A he and
a she-dog going to be hanged!" On he went,
accordingly, repeating this new cry, till he
met a man and a woman going to be married.
When the bridegroom heard what the booby
said, he gave him many a good thump, and
bade him say, "I wish you much joy!"
This he was crying at the top of his voice
when he came to a pit into which two
The Silly Son.
141
labourers had fallen, and one of them, en-
raged at what he thought his mockery of
their misfortune, exerted all his strength and
scrambled out, then beat the poor simpleton,
and told him to say, "The one is out, I wish
the other was!" Glad to be set free, the
booby went on shouting these words till he
met with a one-eyed man, who, like the
others, taking what he was crying for a per-
sonal insult, gave him another drubbing, and
then bade him cry, "The one side gives
good light, and I wish the other did!" So
he adopted this new cry, and continued his
adventurous journey till he came to a house,
one side of which was on fire. The people,
hearing him bawling, "The one side gives
good light, and I wish the other did!" at once
concluded that he had set the house a-blazing;
so they put him in prison, and the end was,
the judge put on the black cap and con-
demned him to be hanged!'
When the noodle is persuaded, as in the
following case of a Sinhalese wittol, by a
gang of thieves to join them in a plundering
expedition, they have little reason to be
pleased with him, for he does not make a
¹ Abridged and modified from a version in the
Folk-Lore Record, vol. iii., pp. 153-5.
142
The Book of Noodles.
good "cat's-paw."
The Sinhalese noodle
joined some thieves, took readily to their
ways, and was always eager to accompany
them on their marauding excursions. One
night they took him with them, and boring a
large hole in the wall of a house,' they sent
him in, telling him to hand out the heaviest
article he could lay hands upon. He readily
went in, and seeing a large kurakkan-grinder,2
thought that was the heaviest thing in the
room, and attempted to remove it. But it
proved too much for him alone, so he gently
awoke a man who was sleeping in the
room, and said to him, "My friend, pray
help me to remove this kurakkan-grinder.”
The man immediately guessed that thieves
had entered the house, and gave the alarm.
The thieves, who were waiting outside
quite expectant, rushed away, and the
noodle somehow or other managed to escape
with them.
Next night they again took him along with
them, and after boring a hole in the wall of
another house, sent him in with strict injunc-
tions not to make a noise or wake anybody.
He crept in noiselessly and entered a large
'The usual mode by which in the East thieves
break into houses, which are for the most part
constructed of clay. See Job xxiv. 16.
* Kurakkan is a species of grain.
The Silly Son.
143
room, in which was an old woman, fast asleep
by the fire, with wide-open mouth. An
earthen chattie, a wooden spoon, and a small
bag of pease were also placed by the fire.
The noodle first proceeded to roast some
pease in the chattie.
When they were
roasted to a nice brownish colour, and emitted
a very tempting smell, he thought that the
old woman might also enjoy a mouthful. He
considered for a while how he might best
offer some to her. He did not wish to wake
her, as he was ordered not to wake anybody.
Suddenly a bright idea struck him. Why
should he not feed her? There she was
sleeping with her mouth wide open. Surely
it would be no difficult task to put some
pease into her mouth. Taking some of
the hot, smoking pease into the wooden
spoon, he put the contents into her mouth.
The woman awoke, screaming with all her
might. The noise roused the other in-
mates of the house, who came rushing to
the spot to see what was the matter. This
time also the noodle managed to escape
with the thieves; but in a subsequent ad-
venture he, as well as the thieves, came
to grief.¹
The silly son of Italian popular tales is
1 The Orientalist, June, 1884, pp. 137-8.
144 The Book of Noodles.
▼
represented as being sent by his mother to
sell a piece of linen which she had woven,
saying to him, "Now listen attentively to
what I say: Walk straight along the road.
Don't take less than such a price for this
linen. Don't have any dealings with women
who chatter. Whether you sell it to any one
you meet on the way, or carry it into the
market, offer it only to some quiet sort of
body whom you may see standing apart and
not gossiping or prating, for such as they
will persuade you to take some sort of price
that won't suit me at all." The booby
answers, "Yes, mamma," and goes off on his
errand, keeping straight on, instead of taking
the turnings leading to villages. It happened,
as he went along, that the wife of the syndic
of the next town was driving out with her
maids, and had got out of the carriage, to
walk a short distance, as the day was fine.
Her maid tells her that there goes the simple
son of the poor widow by the brook. "What
are you going to do, my good lad?" kindly
asks the lady. "I'm not going to tell you,"
says the booby, "because you were chatter-
ing." "I see your mother has sent you to
sell this linen," continues the lady; "I will
buy it of you," and she offers to pay twice
as much as his mother had said she wanted.
"Can't sell it to you," replies he, "for you
The Silly Son.
145
were chattering," and he continues his
journey. Farther along he comes to a plaster
statue by the roadside, so he says to himself,
"Here's one who stands apart and doesn't
chatter; this is the one to sell the linen to,"
then aloud, "Will you buy my linen, good
friend?" The statue maintained its usual
taciturnity, and the booby concluded, as it
did not speak, it was all right, so he said,
"The price is so-and-so; have the money
ready by the time I come back, as I have to
go on and buy some yarn for mother." On
he went accordingly, and bought the yarn,
and then came back to the statue. Some one
passing by had in the meantime taken the
linen. Finding it gone, "It's all right," says
he to himself; "she's taken it," then aloud,
"Where's the money I told you to have
ready?" The statue remained silent. "If
you don't give me the money, I'll hit you on
the head," he exclaimed, and raising his stick,
he knocked the head off, and found it filled
with gold coin. "That's where you keep
your money, is it? All right; I can pay my-
self." So saying, he filled his pockets with the
coin and went home. When he handed his
mother the money, and told her of his adven-
ture with the quiet body by the roadside, she
was afraid lest the neighbours should learn
of h、r windfall if the booby knew its value
ΙΟ
146
The Book of Noodles.
so she said to him, "You've only brought me
a lot of rusty nails; but never mind: you'll
know better what to do next time," and put
the money in an earthen jar. In her absence,
a ragman comes to the house, and the booby
asks him, "Will you buy some rusty nails?"
The man desires to see them. Well,"
quoth he on beholding the treasure, "they're
not much worth, but I'll give you twelve
pauls for the lot," and having handed over
the sum, went off with his prize. When his
mother comes home, the booby tells her
what a bargain he had made for the rusty
nails. "Nails!" she echoes, in consternation.
'Why, you foolish thing, they were gold
coins!" "Can't help that now, mamma," he
answers philosophically; "you told me they
were old rusty nails." By another lucky
"
adventure, however, the booby is enabled to
make up his mother's loss, finding a treasure
which a party of robbers had left behind
them at the foot of a tree.
The incident of a simpleton selling some-
thing to an inanimate object and discovering
a hidden treasure occurs, in different forms,
in the folk-tales of Asiatic as well as
European countries. In a manuscript text of
the Arabian Nights, brought from Constan-
tinople by Wortley Montague, and now
The Silly Son.
147
preserved in the Bodleian Library, Oxford, a
more elaborate version of the Italian booby's
adventure with the statue is found, in the
Story of the Bang-eater and his Wife:"
"
In former times there lived not far from
Baghdad a half-witted fellow, who was much
addicted to the use of bang. Being reduced
to poverty, he was obliged to sell his cow,
which he took to the market one day, but the
animal being in such a poor condition, no one
would buy it, and after waiting till he was
weary he returned homeward. On the way
he stopped to repose himself under a tree,
and tied the cow to one of the branches,
while he ate some bread, and drank an
infusion of his bang, which he always carried
with him. In a short time it began to
operate, so as to bereave him of the little
sense he had, and his head was filled with
ridiculous reveries. While he was musing,
a bird beginning to chatter from her nest in
the tree, he fancied it was a human voice, and
that some woman had offered to purchase his
cow, upon which he said, "Reverend mother
of Solomon,' dost thou wish to buy my
¹ Ummu Sulayman. In Arabia the mother is
generally addressed in this way as a mark of
respect for having borne children, and the eldest
gives the title. Our bang-eater supposed he
was addressing an old woman who had (or
might have had) a son named Solomon.
148 The Book of Noodles.
cow?" The bird again chattered. "Well,”
replied he, "what wilt thou give? I will
sell her a bargain." The bird repeated her
noise. "Never mind," said the fool, “for
though thou hast forgotten to bring thy purse,
yet, as I daresay thou art an honest woman,
and hast bidden me ten dínars, I will trust
thee with the cow, and call on Friday for the
money." The bird renewed her chattering;
so, leaving the cow tied to a branch of the
tree, he returned home, exulting in the good
bargain he had made for the animal. When
he entered the house, his wife inquired what
he had got for the cow, and he replied that
he had sold her to an honest woman, who
had promised to pay him ten pieces of gold
next Friday. The wife was contented; and
when Friday arrived, her noodle of a husband
having, as usual, taken a dose of bang, repaired
to the tree, and hea ing the bird chattering as
before, said, "Well, good mother, hast thou
brought the gold?" The bird croaked. The
blockhead, supposing the imaginary woman
refused to pay him, became angry, and threw
up a stone, which frightening the bird, it flew
from its nest in the tree and alighted on a
heap of ruins at some little distance. He
now concluded that the woman had desired
him to take his money from the heap, into
which he accordingly dug, and found a copper
The Silly Son.
149
vessel full of coin. This discovery convinced
him he was right, and being withal an honest
fellow, he only took ten pieces; then replac-
ing the soil, “May Allah requite thee for thy
punctuality, good mother! he exclaimed,
and returned to his wife, to whom he gave
the money, informing her at the same time of
the great treasure his friend the imaginary
old woman possessed, and where it was
concealed.
The wife waited till night, when she
brought away the pot of gold, which her
foolish husband observing, he said, "It is
dishonest to rob one who has paid us so
punctually; and if thou dost not return it to
its place, I will inform the walí" (governor of
the city). She laughed at his simplicity, but
fearing that he would execute his threat, she
planned a stratagem to render it of no avail.
Going to market, she purchased some meat
and fish ready cooked, which she brought
privately home, and concealed in the house.
At night, while her husband was sleeping off
the effects of his favourite narcotic, she
strewed the provisions she had brought out-
side the door, and then awakening him, cried
out, "Dear husband, a most wonderful thing
has occurred: there has been a violent storm
while you slept, and, strange to tell, it has
rained pieces of broiled meat and fish, which
1
150
The Book of Noodles.
now lie at the door!" The blockhead got up,
and seeing the food, was persuaded of the
truth of his wife's story. The flesh and fish
were gathered up, and he partook with much
glee of the miraculous treat, but still said he
would tell the wali of her having stolen the
treasure of the honest old woman.
"
In the morning he actually repaired to the
walí, and informed him that his wife had
stolen a pot of gold, which she had still in
her possession. Upon this the wali had the
woman apprehended. She denied the ac-
cusation, and was then threatened with death.
'My lord," said she, "the power is in your
hands; but I am an injured woman, as you
will find by questioning my husband, who is
deranged in his intellect. Ask him when I
committed the theft." The wali did so, and
the simpleton answered, "It was the even-
ing of that night when it rained broiled fish
and ready-cooked flesh." On hearing this,
"Wretch!" exclaimed the walí in a fury,
"dost thou dare to utter falsehoods before
me? Who ever saw it rain anything but
water?" "As I hope for life," replied the
fool, "I speak the truth; for my wife and
myself ate of the fish and flesh which fell
from the clouds." The woman, being ap-
pealed to, denied the assertion of her hus-
band. The walí, now convinced that the man
The Silly Son.
151
was crazy, released the woman, and sent her
husband to the madhouse, where he re-
mained for some days, till his wife, pitying
his condition, contrived to get him set at
liberty. She visited her husband, and coun-
selled him, should any one ask him if he had
seen it rain fish and flesh, to answer, "No;
who ever saw it rain anything but water?"
Then she informed the keeper that he was
come to his senses, and suggested he should
question him; and on the poor fellow answer-
ing properly he was released.
In a Russian variant, an old man had three
sons, one of whom was a noodle. When the
old man died, his property was shared be-
tween the brothers, but all that the simpleton
received was one ox, which he took to the
market to sell. On his way he chanced to
pass an old birch-tree, which creaked and
groaned in the wind. He thinks the tree
is offering to buy his ox, and so he says,
"Well, you shall have it for twenty roubles."
But the tree only creaked and creaked, and
he fancied it was asking the ox on credit.
"Very good," says he. "You'll pay me to-
morrow? I'll wait till then." So he ties the
ox to the tree and goes home. His brothers
question him about his ox, and he tells them
he has sold it for twenty roubles and is to get
152
The Book of Noodles.
the money to-morrow, at which they laugh;
he is, they think, a greater fool than ever.
Next morning he went to the birch-tree, and
found the ox was gone, for, in truth, the
wolves had eaten it. He demanded his money,
but the tree only creaked and groaned, as
usual. "You'll pay me to-morrow?" he
exclaimed. "That's what you said yesterday.
I'll have no more of your promises." So
saying, he struck the old birch-tree with his
hatchet and sent the chips flying about. Now
the tree was hollow, and it soon split asunder
from his blows; and in the hollow trunk he
found a pot full of gold, which some robbers
had hidden there. Taking some of the gold,
he returns home, and shows it to his brothers,
who ask him how he got so much money.
"A neighbour," he replies, "gave it to me for
my ox. But this is nothing like the whole of
it. Come along, brothers, and let us get the
rest." They go, and fetch the rest of the
treasure, and on their way home they meet a
diachok (one of the inferior members of the
Russian clerical body, though not one of the
clergy), who asks them what they are carry-
ing. "Mushrooms," say the two clever
brothers; but the noodle cries, "That's not
true; we're carrying money: here, look at it."
The diachok, with an exclamation, flung him-
self upon the gold and began stuffing it into
The Silly Son.
153
his pockets.
At this the noodle grew angry,
dealt him a blow with his hatchet, and killed
him on the spot. The brothers dragged the
body to an empty cellar, and flung it in.
Later in the evening the eldest said to the
other, "This business is sure to turn out
badly. When they look for the diachok,
Simpleton will be sure to tell them all about
it. So we had better hide the body in some
other place, and kill a goat and bury it in
the cellar." This they did accordingly. And
after several days had passed the people
asked the noodle if he had seen the diachok.
"Yes," he answered. "I killed him some time
ago with my hatchet, and my brothers carried
him to the cellar." They seize upon him and
compel him to go down into the cellar and
bring out the body. He gets hold of the
goat's head, and asks, "Was your diachok
dark-haired ? "He was.
"Had he a
beard?" "Yes." "And horns? "What
horns are you talking of?" "Well, see for
yourselves," said he, tossing up the head
to them. They saw it was a goat's head, and
went away home.¹
"}
"
The reader cannot fail to remark the close
resemblance there is between the first parts
¹ See Ralston's Russian Folk-Tales.
}
154
The Book of Noodles.
of the Arabian and Russian stories; and the
second parts of both reappear in many tales
of the Silly Son. The goat's carcase substi-
tuted for the dead man occurs, for instance, in
the Norse story of Silly Matt; in the Sicilian
story of Giufà; in M. Rivière's Contes Popu-
laires de la Kabylie du Djurdjura; and
"Foolish Sachúli," in Miss Stokes' Indian
Fairy Tales. The incident of the pretended
shower of broiled fish and flesh is found in
Campbell's Tales of the West Highlands
(porridge and pancakes); in Rivière's Tales
of the Kabaïl (fritters); "Foolish Sachúli"
(sweetmeats); Giufà, the Sicilian Booby (figs
and raisins); and in M. Leger's Contes
Populaires Slaves, where, curiously enough,
the trick is played by a husband upon his
wife. It is perhaps worth while reproducing
the Russian story from Leger, in a some-
what abridged form, as follows:
In tilling the ground a labourer found a
treasure, and carrying it home, said to his
wife, "See! Heaven has sent us a fortune.
But where can we conceal it?"
She sug-
gested he should bury it under the floor, which
he did accordingly. Soon after this the wife
went out to fetch water, and the labourer re-
flected that his wife was a dreadful gossip,
and by to-morrow night all the village would
know their secret. So he removed the
The Silly Son.
155
treasure from its hiding-place and buried it in
his barn, beneath a heap of corn. When the
wife came back from the well, he said to her
quite gravely, "To-morrow we shall go to the
forest to seek fish; they say there's plenty
there at present." "What! fish in the forest?
she exclaimed. "Of course," he rejoined;
"and you'll see them there." Very early
next morning he got up, and took some fish,
which he had concealed in a basket. He
went to the grocer's and bought a quantity of
sweet cakes. He also caught a hare and
killed it. The fish and cakes he disposed of
in different parts of the wood, and the hare he
hooked on a fishing-line, and then threw it in
the river. After breakfast he took his wife
with him into the wood, which they had
scarcely entered when she found a pike, then
a perch, and then a roach, on the ground.
With many exclamations of surprise, she
gathered up the fish and put them in her
basket. Presently they came to a pear-tree,
from the branches of which hung sweet cakes.
"See!" she cried. "Cakes on a pear-tree!”
"Quite natural," replied he: "it has rained
cakes, and some have remained on this tree;
travellers have picked up the rest.” Continu-
ing their way to the village, they passed near
a stream. "Wait a little," said the husband
"I set my line early this morning, and I'll
156
The Book of Noodles.
look if anything is caught on it." He then
pulled in the line, and behold, there was a
hare hooked on to it! "How extraordinary!"
cries the good wife-"a hare in the water! "
"Why,” says he, "don't you know there are
hares in the water as well as rats?" "No,
indeed, I knew it not." They now returned
home, and the wife set about preparing all the
nice eatables for supper. In a day or two the
labourer found from the talk of his acquaint-
ances that his finding the treasure was no
secret in the village, and in less than a week
he was summoned to the castle. Is it true,"
said the lord, "that you have found a treas-
ure?" "It is not true," was his reply. "But
your wife has told me all." 'My wife does
not know what she says-she is mad, my
lord." Hereupon the woman cries, "It is the
truth, my lord; he has found a treasure and
buried it beneath the floor of our cottage."
"When?" "On the eve before the day we
went into the forest to look for fish." "What
do you say?" "Yes; it was on the day that
it rained cakes; we gathered a basketful of
them, and coming home, my husband fished a
fine hare out of the river." My lord declared the
woman to be an idiot; nevertheless he caused
his servants to search under the labourer's
cottage floor, but nothing was found there, and
so the shrewd fellow secured his treasure.
"

The Silly Son
157
The silly son figures frequently in Indian
story-books; sometimes a number of fools'
exploits are strung together and ascribed to
one individual, as in the tale of "Foolish
Sachúli;" but generally they are told as sepa-
rate stories. The following adventure of
Sachúli is also found, in varied form, in
Beschi's Gooroo Paramartan: One day
Sachúli climbed up a tree, and sat on a long
branch, and began cutting off the branch
between the tree and himself. A man pass-
ing by called to him, saying, "What are you
doing up there? You will be killed if you
cut that branch off." "What do you say?"
asked the booby, coming down. "When
shall I die?" "How can I tell?" said
the man. "Let me go." "I will not let
you go until you tell me when I shall
die." At last the man, in order to get rid
of him, said, "When you find a scarlet
thread on your jacket, then you will die."
After this Sachúli went to the bazaar, and
sat down by some tailors, and in throwing
away shreds, a scarlet thread fell on his
clothes. "Now I shall die!" exclaimed the
fool. "How do you know that?" the tailors
inquired, when he told them what the man
had said about a scarlet thread, at which they
all laughed. Nevertheless, Sachúli went and
dug a grave in the jungle and lay down in it.
158
Book of Noodles.
Presently a sepoy comes along, bearing a pot
of ghi, or clarified butter, which he engages
Sachúli to carry for him, and the noodle, of
course, lets it fall in the midst of his calcula-
tions of the uses to which he should put the
money he is promised by the sepoy.
The incident of a blockhead cutting off the
branch on which he is seated seems to be
almost universal. It occurs in the jests of
the typical Turkish noodle, the Khoja Nasr-
ed-Dín, and there exist German, Saxon, and
Lithuanian variants of the same story. It is
also known in Ceylon, and the following is a
version from a Hindú work entitled Bhara-
taka Dwátrinsati, Thirty-two Tales of Mendi-
cant Monks:
In Elákapura there lived several mendicant
monks. One of them, named Dandaka, once
went, in the rainy season, into a wood in
order to procure a post for his hut. There
he saw on a tree a fine branch bent down,
and he climbed the tree, sat on the branch,
and began to cut it. Then there came that
way some travellers, who, seeing what he was
doing, said, “O monk, greatest of all idiots,
you should not cut a branch on which you
yourself are sitting, for if you do so, when
the branch breaks you will fall down and
dic." After saying this the travellers went
their way.
The monk, however, paid no
The Silly Son.
159
attention to their speech, but continued to cut
the branch, remaining in the same posture,
until at length the branch broke, and he
tumbled down. He then thought within him-
self, "Those travellers are indeed wise and
truthful, for everything has happened just as
they predicted; consequently I must be dead."
So he remained on the ground as if dead; he
did not speak, nor did he stand up, nor did
he even breathe. People who came there
from the neighbourhood raised him up, but
he did not stand; they endeavoured to make
him speak, but could not succeed. They
then sent word to the other monks, saying,
"Your associate Dandaka fell down from a
tree and died." Then came the monks in
large numbers, and when they saw that he
was "dead," they lifted him up in order to carry
him to the place of cremation. Now when
they had gone a short distance they came
upon a spot where the road divided itself
before them. Then said some, "We must
go to the left," but others said, "It is to the
right that we must go." Thus a dispute
arose among them, and they were unable to
come to any conclusion. The "dead" monk,
who was borne on a bier, said, "Friends,
quarrel not among yourselves; when I was
alive, I always went by the left road." Then
said some, "He always spoke the truth; all
160
The Book of Noodles.
that he ever said was nothing but the simple
fact. Let us therefore take the left road."
This was agreed upon, and as they were
about to proceed towards the left some
people who happened to be present said,
O ye monks, ye are the greatest of all
blockheads that ye should proceed to burn
this man while he is yet alive." They
answered, "Nay, but he is dead." Then the
bystanders said, "He cannot be dead, seeing
that he yet speaks." They then set down
the bier on the ground, and Dandaka per-
sistently declared that he was actually dead,
and related to them with the most solemn
protestations the prediction of the travellers,
and how it was fulfilled. Hereupon the other
monks remained quite bewildered, unable to
arrive at any decision as to whether Dandaka
was dead or alive, until at length, after a great
deal of trouble, the bystanders succeeded in
convincing them that the man was not dead
and in inducing them to return to their dwell-
ing. Dandaka also now stood up and went
his way, after having been heartily laughed at
by the people.'
A diverting story in the Facetiæ of Poggius,
entitled "Mortuus Loqueus," from which t
was reproduced in the Italian novels of
¹ From a paper on "Comparative Folk-lore,"
by W. Goonetilleke. in The Orientalist, i., p. 122.
The Silly Son.
161
Grazzini and in our old collection Tales and
Quicke Answeres, has a near affinity with jests
of this class, and also with the wide cycle of
stories in which a number of rogues combine
to cheat a simpleton out of his property. In
the early English jest-book,' it is, in effect,
as follows:
There once dwelt in Florence a noodle
called Nigniaca, upon whom a party of young
men resolved to play a practical joke. Having
arranged their plans, one of them met him
early one morning, and asked him if he was
not ill. "No," says the wittol. "I am well
enough." "By my faith," quoth the joker,
"but you have a pale, sickly colour," and
went his way. Presently a second of the
complotters came up to him, and asked him
if he was not suffering from an ague, for he
certainly looked very ill. The poor fellow
now began to think that he was really sick,
and was convinced of this when a third man
in passing told him that he should be in his
bed-he had evidently not an hour to live,
Hearing this, Nigniaca stood stock-still, say-
ing to himself, "Verily, I have some sharp
ague," when a fourth man came and bade
him go home at once, for he was a dying man.
1
¹ Mery Tales, Wittie Questions, and Quicke
Answeres, very pleasant to be Readde. Imprinted
at London by H. Wykes, 1567.
II
162
The Book of Noodles.
So the simpleton begged this fourth man to
help him home, which he did very willingly,
and after laying him in his bed, the other
jokers came to see him, and one of them,
pretending to be a physician, felt his pulse
and declared the patient would die within
an hour.' Then, standing all about his bed,
they said to each other, "Now he is sinking
fast; his speech and sight have failed him;
he will soon give up the ghost. Let us there-
fore close his eyes, cross his hands on his
breast, and carry him forth to be buried."
The simpleton lay as still as though he was
really dead, so they laid him on a bier and
carried him through the city. A great crowd
soon gathered, when it was known that they
were carrying the corpse of Nigniaca to his
grave. And among the crowd was a taverner's
boy, who cried out, "What a rascal and thief
1
""
Thus, too, Scogin and his "chamber-fellow'
successively declared to a rustic that the sheep he
was driving were pigs. In Fortini's novels, in
like manner, a simpleton is persuaded that the
kid he offered for sale was a capon; and in
the Spanish El Conde Lucanor, and the German
Tyl Eulenspiegel, a countryman is cheated out of
a piece of cloth. The original form of the inci-
dent is found in the Hitopadesa, where three
sharpers persuade a Bráhman that the goat he
is carrying for a sacrifice is a dog. This story of
the Florentine noodle- —or rather Poggio's version
-may have been suggested by a tale in the
The Silly Son.
163
is dead! By the mass, he should have been
hanged long ago." When the wittol heard
himself thus vilified, he lifted up his head and
exclaimed, "I wish, you scoundrel, I were
alive now, as I am dead, and I would prove
thee a false liar to thy face;" upon which the
jokers burst into laughter, set down the
body" and ran away-leaving Nigniaca to
explain the whole affair to the marvelling
multitude.'
"
We read of another silly son, in the Katha
Manjari, whose father said to him one day,
"My boy, you are now grown big, yet you
Gesta Romanorum, in which the emperor's
physician is made to believe that he had leprosy.
See my Popular Tales and Fictions, where these
and similar stories are compared in a paper
entitled "The Sharpers and the Simpleton."
¹ In Powell and Magnusson's Legends of Iceland
(Second Series, p. 627), a woman makes her
husband believe that he is dressed in fine clothes
when he is naked; another persuades her hus-
band that he is dead, and as he is being carried
to the burying-ground, he perceives the naked
man, who asserts that he is dressed, upon which
he exclaims, "How I should laugh if I were not
dead!" And in a fabliau by Jean de Boves, "Le
Villain de Bailleul; aliàs, Le Femme qui fit
croire à son Mari qu'il était mort," the husband
exclaims, "Rascal of a priest, you may well
thank Heaven that I am dead, else I would
belabour you soundly with my stick."—See
M. Le Grand's Fabliaux, ed. 1781, tome v., pp.
192, 193.
164
The Book of Noodles.
don't seem to have much sense. You must,
however, do something for your living. Go,
therefore, to the tank, and catch fish and bring
them home." The lad accordingly went to
the tank, and having caused all the water
-which was required for the irrigation of his
father's fields-to run to waste, he picked up
from the mud all the fishes he could find, and
took them to his father, not a little proud of
his exploit.—In the Katha Sarit Ságara it is
related that a Bráhman told his foolish son
one evening that he must send him to the
village early on the morrow, and thither the
lad went, without asking what he was to do.
Returning home at night very tired, he said to
his father, "I have been to the village." "Yes,"
said the Brahman, "you went thither without
an object, and have done no good by it.”—And
in the Buddhist Játakas we find what is prob-
ably the original of a world-wide story: A
man was chopping a felled tree, when a mos-
quito settled on his bald head and stung him
severely. Calling to his son, who was sitting
near him, he said, "My boy, there is a mosquito
stinging my head, like the thrust of a spear-
drive it off." "Wait a bit, father," said the
boy, "and I will kill him with one blow."
Then he took up an axe and stood behind his
father's back; and thinking to kill the mos-
quito with the axe, he only killed his father.
1
The Silly Son.
165
Among numerous variants is the story of the
Sicilian booby, Giufà, who was annoyed by
the flies, and complained of them to the judge,
who told him that he was at liberty to kill a
fly wherever he saw it: just then a fly hap-
pened to alight on the judge's nose, which
Giufà observing, he immediately aimed at it so
furious a blow with his fist, that he smashed
his worship's nose!
The hopelessness of attempting to impart
instruction to the silly son is farther illustrated
by the story in a Sinhalese collection: A gúrú
was engaged in teaching one of his disciples,
but whilst he was teaching the youth was
watching the movements of a rat which was
entering its hole. As soon as the gúrú had
finished his teaching, he said, "Well, my son,
has all entered in?" to which the youth
replied, “Yes, all has entered in except the
tail." And from the same work is the follow-
ing choice example of "a happy family”: A
priest went one day to the house of one of
his followers, and amongst other things he
said, "Tell me now, which of your four
children is the best-behaved?" The father
replied, "Look, sir, at that boy who has
climbed to the top of that thatched building,
and is waving aloft a firebrand. Among them
all, he is the divinely excellent one." Where-
upon the priest placed his finger on his nose,
166
The Book of Noodles.
drew a deep, deep sigh, and said, "Is it
indeed so? What, then, must the other
three be?"
The Turkish romance of the Forty Vazírs
-the plan of which is similar to that of the
Book of Sindibád and its derivatives-fur-
nishes us with two stories of the same class,
one of which is as follows, according to
my friend Mr. Gibb's complete translation
(the first that has been made in English),
recently published:"
They have told that in bygone times there
was a king, and he had a skilful minstrel.
One day a certain person gave to the latter a
little boy, that he might teach him the science
of music. The boy abode a long time by him,
and though the master instructed him, he suc-
ceeded not in learning, and the master could
make nothing of him. He arranged a scale,
and said, "Whatsoever thou sayest to me, say
in this scale." So whatsoever the boy said
he used to say in that scale. Now one day a
spark of fire fell on the master's turban. The
boy saw it and chanted, "O master, I see
something; shall I say it or no?" and he
went over the whole scale. Then the master
¹ History of the Forty Viziers; or, The Forty
Morns and Forty Eves. Translated from the
Turkish, by E. J. W. Gibb, M.R.A.S. London:
G. Redway, 1886,
The Silly Son.
167
chanted, "O boy, what dost thou see?
Speak!" and he too went over all that the
boy had gone over. Then the turn came to
the boy, and he chanted, "O master, a spark
has fallen on thy turban, and it is burning."
The master straightway tore off his turban
and cast it on the ground, and saw that it was
burning. He blew out the fire on this side
and on that, and took it in his hand, and said
to the boy, "What time for chanting is this?
Everything is good in its own place,” and he
admonished him.'
The other story tells how a king had a
stupid son, and placed him in charge of a
cunning master, learned in the sciences, who
declared it would be easy for him to teach
the boy discretion, and, before dismissing
him, the king gave the sage many rich giſts.
After the boy has been long under the tuition
of his learned master, the latter, conceiving
¹ A variant of this is found in John Bromyard's
Summa Prædicantium, A 26, 34, as follows:
Quidam sedebat juxta igneum, cujus vestem
ignis intrabat. Dixit socius suus, "Vis audire
rumores?" "Ita," inquit, "bonos et non alios.”
Cui alius, "Nescio nisi malos." Ergo," inquit,
"nolo audire." Et quum bis aut ter ei hoc
diceret, semper idem respondit. In fine, quum
sentiret vestem combustam, iratus ait socio,
"Quare non dixisti mihi?" "Quia (inquit)
dixista quod noluisti audire rumores nisi pla-
centes et illi non erant tales."
168
The Book of Noodles.
him to be well versed in all the sciences, takes
him to the king, his father, who says to him,
"O my son, were I to hold a certain thing
hidden in my hand, couldst thou tell me what
it is?" "Yes," answers the youth. Upon
this the king secretly slips the ring off his
finger, and hides it in his hand, and then asks
the boy, "What have I in my hand?" Quoth
the clever youth, "O father, it first came from
the hills." (The king thinks to himself, "He
knows that mines are in the hills.") "And it
is a round thing," continues he "it must be a
millstone." "Blockhead!" exclaims the irate
king, "could a millstone be hidden in a man's
hand?" Then addressing the learned man,
"Take him away," he says, "and teach
him."
He
Lastly, we have a somewhat different
specimen of the silly son in the doctor's
apprentice, whose attempt to imitate his
master was so ludicrously unsuccessful.
used to accompany his master on his visits
to patients, and one day the doctor said to a
sick man, to whom he had been called, "I
know what is the matter with you, and it is
useless to deny it;-you have been eating
beans." On their way home, the apprentice,
admiring his master's sagacity, begged to be
informed how he knew that the patient had
been eating beans. "Boy," said the doctor,
The Silly Son.
169
""
"An in-
loftily, "I drew an inference."
ference!" echoed this youth of inquiring
mind; "and what is an inference?" Quoth
the doctor, "Listen: when we came to the
door, I observed the shells of beans lying
about, and I drew the inference that the
family had had beans for dinner.' Another
day it chanced that the doctor did not take
his apprentice with him when he went his
rounds, and in his absence a message came
for him to visit a person who had been taken
suddenly ill. "Here," thought the apprentice,
"is a chance for my putting master's last lesson
into practice;" so off he went to the sick man,
and assuming as "knowing an air as he
could, he felt his pulse, and then said to him
severely, "Don't deny it; I see by your pulse
that you have been eating a horse. I shall
send you some medicine." When the doctor
returned home he inquired of his hopeful
pupil, whether any person had called for him,
upon which the wittol proudly told him of his
own exploit. "Eaten a horse!" exclaimed
the man of physic. "In the name of all that's
wonderful, what induced you to say such a
thing?" Quoth the youth, simpering, "Why,
sir, I did as you did the other day, when we
visited the old farmer-I drew an inference."
"You drew an inference, did you? And how
did you draw the inference that the man had
170
The Book of Noodles.
eaten a horse?” "Why, very readily, sir;
for as I entered the house I saw a saddle
hanging on the wall.”¹
¹ Under the title of "The Phisitian that bare
his Paciente in honde that he had eaten an Asse
this jest occurs in Merry Tales and Quicke An-
sweres, and Professor Crane gives a Sicilian
version in hi Itanan Popular Tales.


CHAPTER VI.
THE FOUR SIMPLE BRÁHMANS.
[As a sort of supplement to the sayings and
doings of the silly son, the following highly
diverting Indian tale is here inserted, from the
Abbé Dubois' French rendering of the Tamil
original, appended, with others, to his selections
from the Panchatantra. The story is known in
the north as well as in the south of India: in
the Panjabi version there are, however, but three
noodle-heroes. It will be seen that the third
Bráhman's tale is another of the numerous silent
couple class, and it may possibly be the original
form.]
Introduction.

N a certain district, proclamation had
been made of a Samaradanam
being about to be held.' Four
Bráhmans, from different villages
going thither, fell in upon the road, and, find-
ing that they were all upon the same errand,
they agreed to proceed in company. A
¹ A Samaradanam is one of the public festivals
given by pious people, and sometimes by those
in power, to the Bráhmans, who on such occa-
sions assemble in great numbers from all quarters.
172
The Book of Noodles.
soldier, happening to meet them, saluted
them in the usual way, by touching hands
and pronouncing the words always applied
on such occasions to Bráhmans, "Dandam-
arya!" or "Health to my lord!" The four
travellers made the customary return, “Asir-
vadam!" and going on, they came to a well,
where they quenched their thirst and reposed
themselves in the shade of some trees.
Sitting there, and finding no better subject of
conversation, one of them asked the others,
whether they did not remark how particu-
larly the soldier had distinguished him by his
polite salutation. "You!" said another;
"it was not you that he saluted, but me."
"You are both mistaken," says a third; "for
you may remember that when the soldier
said, ' Dandamarya!' he cast his eyes upon
me."
'Not at all," replied the fourth; "it
was I only he saluted; otherwise, should I
have answered him as I did, by saying,
Asirvadam ?"
Each maintained his argument obstinately;
and as none of them would yield, the dispute
had nearly come to blows, when the least
stupid of the four, seeing what was likely to
happen, put an end to the brawl by the
following advice: "How foolish it is in us,”
said he, "thus to put ourselves in a passion!
After we have said all the ill of one another
The Four Simple Bráhmans. 173
that we can invent-nay, after going stoutly
to fisticuffs, like Sudra rabble, should we be
at all nearer to the decision of our difference?
The fittest person to determine the con-
troversy, I think, would be the man who
occasioned it. The soldier, who chose to
salute one of us, cannot yet be far off: let us
therefore run after him as quickly as we can,
and we shall soon know for which of us he
intended his salutation."
This advice appeared wise to them all, and
was immediately adopted. The whole of
them set off in pursuit of the soldier, and at
last overtook him, after running a league, and
all out of breath. As soon as they came in
sight of him, they cried out to him to stop;
and before they had well approached him,
they had put him in full possession of the
nature of their dispute, and prayed him to
terminate it, by saying to which of them
he had directed his salutation. The soldier
instantly perceiving the character of the
people he had to do with, and being willing
to amuse himself a little at their expense,
coolly replied, that he intended his saluta-
tion for the greatest fool of all four, and then,
turning on his heel, he continued his journey.
The Brahmans, confounded at this answer,
turned back in silence. But all of them had
deeply at heart the distinction of the saluta-
174
The Book of Noodles.
tion of the soldier, and the dispute was
gradually renewed. Even the awkward
decision of the warrior could not prevent each
of them from arrogating to himself the pre-
eminence of being noticed by him, to the ex-
clusion of the others. The contention, there-
fore, now became, which of the four was the
stupidest; and strange to say, it grew as
warm as ever, and must have come to blows,
had not the person who gave the former
advice, to follow the soldier, interposed again
with his wisdom, and spoken as follows: "I
think myself the greatest fool of us all. Each
of you thinks the same thing of himself. And
after a fight, shall we be a bit nearer the
decision of the question? Let us, therefore,
have a little patience. We are within a short
distance of Dharmapuri, where there is a
choultry, at which all little causes are tried
by the heads of the village; and let ours be
judged among the rest.”
The others agreed in the soundness of this
advice; and having arrived at the village, they
eagerly entered the choultry, to have their
business settled by the arbitrator. They
could not have come at a better season. The
chiefs of the district, Bráhmans and others, had
already met in the choultry; and no other
cause being brought forward, they proceeded
immediately to that of the four Bráhmans,
The Four Simple Bráhmans. 175
who advanced into the middle of the court,
and stated that a sharp contest having arisen
among them, they were come to have it
decided with fairness and impartiality. The
court desired them to proceed and explain
the ground of their controversy. Upon this,
one of them stood forward and related to the
assembly all that had happened, from their
meeting with the soldier to the present state
of the quarrel, which rested on the superior
degree of stupidity of one of their number.
The detail created a general shout of laughter.
The president, who was of a gay disposition,
was delighted beyond measure to have fallen
in with so diverting an incident. But he put
on a grave face, and laid it down, as the
peculiarity of the cause, that it could not be
determined on the testimony of witnesses, and
that, in fact, there was no other way of satis-
fying the minds of the judges than by each,
in his turn, relating some particular occur-
rence of his life, on which he could best
establish his claim to superior folly.
clearly showed that there could be no other
means of determining to which of them the
salutation of the soldier could with justice be
awarded. The Brahmans assented, and upon
a sign being made to one of them to begin,
and the rest to keep silence, the first thus
spoke:
He
176
The Book of Noodles.
Story of the First Bráhman.
I am poorly provided with clothing, as you
see; and it is not to-day only that I have been
covered with rags. A rich and very charitable
Brahman merchant once made a present of
two pieces of cloth to attire me-the finest
that had ever been seen in our village. I
showed them to the other Bráhmans of the
village, who all congratulated me on so for-
tunate an acquisition. They told me it must
be the fruit of some good deeds that I had
done in a preceding generation. Before I
should put them on, I washed them, accord-
ing to the custom, in order to purify them
from the soil of the weaver's touch, and
hung them up to dry, with the ends fas-
tened to two branches of a tree. A dog, then
happening to come that way, ran under them,
and I could not discover whether he was high
enough to touch the clothes or not. I asked
my children, who were present, but they said
they were not quite certain. How, then, was
I to discover the fact? I put myself upon all-
fours, so as to be of the height of the dog,
and in that posture I crawled under the cloth-
ing. "Did I touch it?" said I to the
children, who were observing me. They
answered, "No," and I was filled with joy
at the news. But after reflecting a while, I
The Four Simple Bráhmans. 177
recollected that the dog had a turned-up tail,
and that by elevating it above the rest of his
body, it might well have reached my cloth. To
ascertain that, I fixed a leaf in my loin-cloth,
turning upwards, and then, creeping again on
all-fours, I passed a second time under the
clothing. The children immediately cried
out that the point of the leaf on my back had
touched the cloth. This proved to me that
the point of the dog's tail must have done so
too, and that my garments were therefore
polluted. In my rage I pulled down the
beautiful raiment, and tore it in a thousand
pieces, loading with curses both the dog and
his master.
When this foolish act was known, I became
the laughing-stock of all the world, and I was
universally treated as a madman. "Even if
the dog had touched the cloth," said they,
"and so brought defilement upon it, might
not you have washed it a second time, and
so have removed the stain? Or might you
not have given it to some poor Sudra, rather
than tear it in pieces? After such egregious
folly, who will give you clothes another time?"
This was all true; for ever since, when I have
begged clothing of any one, the constant
answer has been, that, no doubt, I wanted a
piece of cloth to pull to pieces.
12
178
The Book of Noodles.
"
He was going on, when a bystander inter-
rupted him by remarking that he seemed to
understand going on all-fours. "Exceedingly
well," said he, "as you shall see and off
he shuffled, in that posture, amidst the
unbounded laughter of the spectators.
Enough! enough!" said the president.
"What we have both heard and seen goes
a great way in his favour. But let us now
hear what the next has to say for himself in
proof of his stupidity." The second accord-
ingly began by expressing his confidence that
if what they had just heard appeared to them
to be deserving of the salutation of the
soldier, what he had to say would change
their opinion.
Story of the Second Bráhman.
Having got my hair and beard shaven one
day, in order to appear decent at a public
festival of the Brahmans, which had been
proclaimed throughout the district, I desired
my wife to give the barber a penny for his
trouble. She heedlessly gave him a couple.
I asked him to give me one of them back,
but he refused. Upon that we quarrelled,
and began to abuse each other; but the
barber at length pacified me, by offering, in
consideration of the double fee, to shave
my wife also. I thought this a fair way of
The Four Simple Bráhmans. 179
But my
settling the difference between us.
wife, hearing the proposal, and seeing the
barber in earnest, tried to make her escape
by flight. I took hold of her, and forced her
to sit down, while he shaved her poll in the
same manner as they serve widows. During
the operation she cried out bitterly; but I
was inexorable, thinking it less hard that my
wife should be close-shaven than that my
penny should be given away for nothing.
When the barber had finished, I let her go,
and she retired immediately to a place of
concealment, pouring down curses on me
and the barber. He took his departure, and
meeting my mother in his way, told her what
he had done, which made her hasten to the
house, to inquire into the outrage; and when
she saw that it was all true she also loaded
me with incivilities.
The barber published everywhere what
had happened at our house; and the villain
added to the story that I had caught her
with another man, which was the cause of
¹ In a Sinhalese story, referred to on p. 68, it
is, curiously enough, the woman herself "who
has her head shaved, so as not to lose the
services of the barber for the day when he came,
and her husband was away from home." The
story probably was introduced into Ceylon by
the Tamils; both versions are equally good as
noodle-stories.
180 The Book of Noodles.
my having her shaved; and people were no
doubt expecting, according to our custom in
such a case, to see her mounted on an ass,
with her face turned towards the tail. They
came running to my dwelling from all
quarters, and actually brought an ass to make
the usual exhibition in the streets. The
report soon reached my father-in-law, who
lived at a distance of ten or twelve leagues,
and he, with his wife, came also to inquire
into the affair. Seeing their poor daughter
in that degraded state, and being apprised of
the only reason, they reproached me most
bitterly; which I patiently endured, being
conscious that I was in the wrong. They
persisted, however, in taking her with them,
and keeping her carefully concealed from
every eye for four whole years; when at
length they restored her to me.
This little accident made me lose the
Samaradanam, for which I had been prepar-
ing by a fast of three days; and it was a
great mortification to me to be excluded from
it, as I understood it was a most splendid
entertainment. Another Samaradanam was
announced to be held ten days afterwards, at
which I expected to make up for my loss.
But I was received with the hisses of six
hundred Brahmans, who seized my person,
and insisted on my giving up the accomplice
The Four Simple Bráhmans. 181
of my wife, that he might be prosecuted and
punished, according to the severe rules of
the caste.
I solemnly attested her innocence, and told
the real cause of the shaving of her hair;
when a universal burst of surprise took place,
every one exclaiming, how monstrous it was
that a married woman should be so degraded,
without having committed the crime of in-
fidelity. "Either this man," said they, "must
be a liar, or he is the greatest fool on the face
of the earth!" Such, I daresay, gentlemen,
you will think me, and I am sure you will
consider my folly [looking with great disdain
on the first speaker] as being far superior to
that of the render of body-clothing.
The court agreed that the speaker had put
in a very strong case; but justice required that
the other two should also be heard. The
third claimant was indeed burning with im-
patience for his turn, and as soon as he had
permission, he thus spoke:
Story of the Third Brahman.
My name was originally Anantya; now all
the world call me Betel Anantya, and I will
tell you how this nickname arose. My wife,
having been long detained at her father's
house, on account of her youth, had cohabited
182 The Book of Noodles.
were
with me but about a month when, going to
bed one evening, I happened to say (care-
lessly, I believe), that all women
babblers. She retorted, that she knew men
who were not less babblers than women. I
perceived at once that she alluded to myself;
and being somewhat piqued at the sharpness
of her retort, I said, "Now let us see which
of us shall speak first." "Agreed," quoth
she; "but what shall be the forfeit ?" "A
leaf of betel," said I. Our wager being thus
made, we both addressed ourselves to sleep,
without speaking another word.
Next morning, as we did not appear at our
usual hour, after some interval, they called
us, but got no answer. They again called,
and then roared stoutly at the door, but with
no success. The alarm began to spread in
the house. They began to fear that we had
died suddenly. The carpenter was called
with his tools. The door of our room was
forced open, and when they got in they were
not a little surprised to find both of us wide
awake, in good health, and at our ease, though
without the faculty of speech. My mother
was greatly alarmed, and gave loud vent to
her grief. All the Bráhmans in the village, of
both sexes, assembled, to the number of one
hundred; and after close examination, every
one drew his own conclusion on the accident
$
The Four Simple Bráhmans. 183
which was supposed to have befallen us.
The greater number were of opinion that it
could have arisen only from the malevolence
of some enemy who had availed himself of
magical incantations to injure us. For this
reason, a famous magician was called, to
counteract the effects of the witchcraft, and to
remove it. As soon as he came, after stead-
fastly contemplating us for some time, he'
began to try our pulses, by putting his finger
on our wrists, on our temples, on the heart,
and on various other parts of the body; and
after a great variety of grimaces, the remem-
brance of which excites my laughter, as often
as I think of him, he decided that our malady
arose wholly from the effect of malevolence.
He even gave the name of the particular devil
that possessed my wife and me and rendered
us dumb. He added that the devil was very
stubborn and difficult to allay, and that it
would cost three or four pagodas for the
offerings necessary for compelling him to
fly.
My relations, who were not very opulent,
were astonished at the grievous imposition
which the magician had laid on them. Yet,
rather than we should continue dumb, they
consented to give him whatsoever should be
necessary for the expense of his sacrifice; and
they farther promised that they would reward
184
The Book of Noodles.
him for his trouble as soon as the demon by
whom we were possessed should be expelled.
He was on the point of commencing his
magical operations, when a Brahman, one of
our friends, who was present, maintained, in
opposition to the opinion of the magician and
his assistants, that our malady was not at
all the effect of witchcraft, but arose from
some simple and ordinary cause, of which he
had seen several instances, and he undertook
to cure us without any expense.
He took a chafing-dish filled with burning
charcoal, and heated a small bar of gold very
hot. This he took up with pincers, and ap-
plied to the soles of my feet, then to my
elbows, and the crown of my head. I en-
dured these cruel operations without showing
the least symptom of pain, or making any
complaint; being determined to bear any-
thing, and to die, if necessary, rather than
lose the wager I had laid.
"Let us try the effect on the woman," said
the doctor, astonished at my resolution and
apparent insensibility. And immediately
taking the bit of gold, well heated, he ap-
plied it to the sole of her foot. She was not
able to endure the pain for a moment, but
instantly screamed out, "Enough!" and turn-
ing to me, "I have lost my wager," she said;
"there is your leaf of betel." "Did I not
The Four Simple Bráhmans. 185
tell you," said I, taking the leaf, "that you
would be the first to speak out, and that you
would prove by your own conduct that I was
right in saying yesterday, when we went to
bed, that women are babblers?"
Every one was surprised at the proceeding;
nor could any of them comprehend the mean-
ing of what was passing between my wife
and me; until I explained the kind of wager
we had made overnight, before going to sleep.
"What!" they exclaimed, "was it for a leaf
of betel that you have spread this alarm
through your own house and the whole
village ?—for a leaf of betel that you showed
such constancy, and suffered burning from
the feet to the head upwards? Never
in the world was there seen such folly!"
And so, from that time, I have been constantly
known by the name of Betel Anantya.
The narrative being finished, the court were
of opinion that so transcendent a piece of
folly gave him high pretensions in the depend-
ing suit; but it was necessary also to hear
the fourth and last of the suitors, who thus
addressed them:
Story of the Fourth Bráhman.
The maiden to whom I was betrothed, hav-
ing remained six or seven years at her father's
186
The Book of Noodles.
house, on account of her youth, we were at
last apprised that she was become marriage-
able; and her parents informed mine that she
was in a situation to fulfil all the duties of a
wife, and might therefore join her husband.
My mother being at that time sick, and the
house of my father-in-law being at the dis-
tance of five or six leagues from ours, she
was not able to undertake the journey. She
therefore committed to myself the duty of
bringing home my wife, and counselled me
so to conduct myself, in words and actions,
that they might not see that I was only a
brute. "Knowing thee as I do," said my
mother, as I took leave of her, "I am very
distrustful of thee." But I promised to be on
my good behaviour; and so I departed.
I was well received by my father-in-law,
who gave a great feast to all the Bráhmans of
the village on the occasion. He made me
stay three days, during which there was
nothing but festivity. At length the time of
our departure having arrived, he suffered my
wife and myself to leave him, after pouring
out blessings on us both, and wishing us a
long and happy life, enriched with a numer-
ous progeny. When we took leave of him,
he shed abundance of tears, as if he had fore-
seen the misery that awaited us.
It was then the summer solstice, and the
The Four Simple Bráhmans. 187
I
day was exceedingly hot. We had to cross
a sandy plain of more than two leagues; and
the sand, being heated by the burning sun,
scorched the feet of my young wife, who,
being brought up too tenderly in her father's
house, was not accustomed to such severe
trials. She began to cry, and being unable to
go on, she lay down on the ground, saying
she wished to die there. I was in dreadful
trouble, and knew not what step to take ;
when a merchant came up, travelling the con-
trary way. He had a train of fifty bullocks,
loaded with various kinds of merchandise.
ran to meet him, and told him the cause of
my anxiety with tears in my eyes; and en-
treated him to aid me with his good advice
in the distressing circumstances in which I
was placed. He immediately answered, that
a young and delicate woman, such as my
wife was, could neither remain where she
lay nor proceed on her journey, under a
hot sun, without being exposed to certain
death. Rather than that I should see her
perish, and run the hazard of being suspected
of having killed her myself, and being guilty
of one of the five crimes which the Brahmans
consider as the most heinous, he advised me
to give her to him, and then he would mount
her on one of his cattle and take her along
with him. That I should be a loser, he
188
The Book of Noodles.
admitted; but, all things considered, it was
better to lose her, with the merit of having
saved her life, than equally to lose her, under
the suspicion of being her murderer.
"Her
trinkets," he said, may be worth fifteen
pagodas; take these twenty and give me your
wife."
The merchant's arguments appeared un-
answerable; so I yielded to them, and delivered
to him my wife, whom he placed on one of
his best oxen, and continued his journey with-
out delay. I continued mine also, and got
home in the evening, exhausted with hunger
and fatigue, and with my feet almost roasted
with the burning sand, over which I had
walked the greater part of the day. Frightened
to see me alone, "Where is your wife?”
cried my mother. I gave her a full account of
everything that had happened from the time
I left her. I spoke of the agreeable and
courteous manner in which my father-in-law
had received me, and how, by some delay,
we had been overtaken by the scorching heat
of the sun at noon, so that my wife must have
perished and myself suspected of having
caused her death, had we proceeded; and
that I had preferred to sell her to a merchant
who met us for twenty pagodas. And I
showed my mother the money.
When I had done, my mother fell into an
The Four Simple Bráhmans. 189
ecstasy of fury. She lifted up her voice
against me with cries of rage, and over-
whelmed me with imprecations and awful
curses. Having given way to these first
emotions of despair, she sank into a more
moderate tone: "What hast thou done!
Sold thy wife, hast thou! Delivered her to
another man! A Bráhmanari is become the
concubine of a vile merchant! Ah, what
will her kindred and ours say when they hear
the tale of this brutish stupidity-of folly so
unexampled and degrading?"
The relations of my wife were soon in-
formed of the sad adventure that had befallen
their unhappy girl. They came over to attack
me, and would certainly have murdered me
and my innocent mother, if we had not both
made a sudden escape. Having no direct
object to wreak their vengeance upon, they
brought the matter before the chiefs of the
caste, who unanimously fined me in two
hundred pagodas, as a reparation to my father-
in-law, and issued a proclamation against so
great a fool being ever allowed to take another
wife; denouncing the penalty of expulsion
from the caste against any one who should
assist me in such an attempt. I was there-
fore condemned to remain a widower all my
life, and to pay dear for my folly. Indeed,
I should have been excluded for ever from
190
The Book of Noodles.
my caste, but for the high consideration in
which the memory of my late father is still
held, he having lived respected by all the
world,
Now that you have heard one specimen of
the many follies of my life, I hope you will not
consider me as beneath those who have
spoken before me, nor my pretensions alto-
gether undeserving of the salutation of the
soldier.
Conclusion.
The heads of the assembly, several of
whom were convulsed with laughter while
the Brahmans were telling their stories,
decided, after hearing them all, that each had
given such absolute proofs of folly as to be
entitled, in justice, to a superiority in his own
way: that each of them, therefore, should be
at liberty to call himself the greatest fool of
all, and to attribute to himself the salutation
of the soldier. Each of them having thus
gained his suit, it was recommended to them
all to continue their journey, if it were possible,
in amity. The delighted Bráhmans then
rushed out of court, each exclaiming that he
had gained his cause.

CHAPTER VII.
THE THREE GREAT Noodles.

EW folk-tales are more widely
diffused than that of the man who
set out in quest of as great noodles
as those of his own household.
The details may be varied more or less, but
the fundamental outline is identical, wher-
ever the story is found; and, whether it be an
instance of the transmission of popular tales
from one country to another, or one of those
"primitive fictions" which are said to be the
common heritage of the Aryans, its independ-
ent development by different nations and in
different ages cannot be reasonably main-
tained.
Thus, in one Gaelic version of this divert-
ing story-in which our old friends the
Gothamites reappear on the scene to enact
their unconscious drolleries-a lad marries a
farmer's daughter, and one day while they are
all busily engaged in peat-cutting, she is sent
192
The Book of Noodles.
to the house to fetch the dinner. On enter-
ing the house, she perceives the speckled
pony's packsaddle hanging from the roof, and
says to herself, "Oh, if that packsaddle were
to fall and kill me, what should I do?" and
here she began to cry, until her mother, won-
dering what could be detaining her, comes,
when she tells the old woman the cause of
her grief, whereupon the mother, in her turn,
begins to cry, and when the old man next
comes to see what is the matter with his wife
and daughter, and is informed about the
speckled pony's packsaddle, he, too, "mingles
his tears" with theirs. At last the young
husband arrives, and finding the trio of
noodles thus grieving at an imaginary misfor-
tune, he there and then leaves them, declar-
ing his purpose not to return until he has
found three as great fools as themselves. In
the course of his travels he meets with some
strange folks: men whose wives make them
believe whatever they please-one, that he is
dead; another, that he is clothed, when he is
stark naked; a third, that he is not himself.
He meets with the twelve fishers who always
miscounted their number; the noodles who
went to drown an eel in the sea; and a man
trying to get his cow on the roof of his house,
in order that she might eat the grass growing
there. But the most wonderful incident was
The Three Great Noodles. 193
a man coming with a cow in a cart: and the
people had found out that the man had stolen
the cow, and that a court should be held upon
him, and so they did; and the justice they did
was to put the horse to death for carrying the
cow.¹
In another Gaelic version a young husband
had provided his house with a cradle, in
natural anticipation that such an interesting
piece of furniture would be required in due
time. In this he was disappointed, but the
cradle stood in the kitchen' all the same. One
day he chanced to throw something into the
empty cradle, upon which his wife, his mother,
and his wife's mother set up loud lamenta-
tions, exclaiming, "Oh, if he had been there,
he had been killed!" alluding to a potential
The man was so much shocked at such
an exhibition of folly that he left the country
in search of three greater noodles. Among
other adventures, he goes into a house and
plays tricks on some people there, telling
son.
¹ Campbell's Popular Tales of the West High-
lands, vol. ii., pp. 373-381. In a note to these
adventures Campbell gives a story of some
women who, as judges, doomed a horse to be
hanged the thief who stole the horse got off,
because it was his first offence; the horse went
back to the house of the thief, because he was
the better master, and was condemned for steal-
ing himself!
13
194
The Book of Noodles.
them his name is "Saw ye ever my like?”
When the old man of the house comes home
he finds his people tied upon tables, and asks,
"What's the reason of this?" "Saw ye ever
my like?" says the first. Then going to a
second man, he asks, "What's the reason of
this?" "Saw ye ever my like?" says the
second. "I saw thy like in the kitchen,"
replies the old man, and then he goes to the
third: "What's the reason of this?"
"Saw
ye ever my like?" says the third. "I have
seen plenty of thy like," quoth the old man;
"but never before this day," and then he
understood that some one had been playing
tricks on his people.¹
1 Campbell's Popular Tales of the West High-
lands, vol. ii., pp. 385-387.
In a Northumberland popular tale a child in
bed sees a little fairy come down the chimney,
and the child tells the creature that his name is
My-ainsel. They play together, and the little
fairy is burnt with a cinder, and on its mother
appearing when it cries, and asking it who had
hurt it, the imp answers, "It was My-ainsel."-
There is a somewhat similar story current in
Finland: A man is moulding lead buttons, when
the Devil appears, and asks him what he is
doing. "Making eyes." "Could you make me
new ones?" "Yes." So he ties the Devil to a
bench, and, in reply to the fiend, tells him that
his name is Myself (Issi), and then pours lead
into his eyes. The Devil starts up with the
bench on his back, and runs off howling. Some
The Three Great Noodles. 195
In Russian variants the old parents of a
youth named Lutonya weep over the sup-
posititious death of a potential grandchild,
thinking how sad it would have been if a log
which the old woman had dropped had killed
that hypothetical infant. The parents' grief
appears to Lutonya so uncalled for that he
leaves the house, declaring he will not return
until he has met with people more foolish
than they. He travels long and far, and sees
several foolish doings. In one place a horse
is being inserted into its collar by sheer force;
in another, a woman is fetching milk from the
cellar a spoonful at a time; and in a third
place some carpenters are attempting to
stretch a beam which is not long enough, and
Lutonya earns their gratitude by showing
them how to join a piece to it.¹
people working in a field ask him who did it
Quoth the fiend, "Myself did it” (Issi teggi).
Cf. the Odyssey, Book ix., where Ulysses
informs the Cyclops that his name is No-man,
and when the monster, after having had his eye
put out in his sleep, awakes in agony, he roars
to his comrades for help:
"Friends, No-man kills me, No-man, in the hour
Of sleep, oppresses me with fraudful power!"
"If no man hurt thee, but the hand divine
Inflict disease, it fits thee to resign;-
To Jove, or to thy father, Neptune, pray,"
The brethren cried, and instant strode away.
1 Ralston's Russian Folk-Tales.
196
The Book of Noodles.
A well-known English version is to this
effect: There was a young man who courted
a farmer's daughter, and one evening when
he came to the house she was sent to the
cellar for beer. Seeing an axe stuck in a
beam above her head, she thought to herself,
"
Suppose I were married and had a son, and
he were to grow up, and be sent to this cellar
for beer, and this axe were to fall and kill
him-oh dear! oh dear!" and there she sat
crying and crying, while the beer flowed all
over the cellar-floor, until her old father and
mother come in succession and blubber along
with her about the hypothetical death of her
imaginary grown-up son. The young man
goes off in quest of three bigger fools, and
sees a woman hoisting a cow on to the roof
of her cottage to eat the grass that grew
among the thatch, and to keep the animal
from falling off, she ties a rope round its
neck, then goes into the kitchen, secures at
her waist the rope, which she had dropped
down the chimney, and presently the cow
stumbles over the roof, and the woman is
pulled up the flue till she sticks half-way.
In an inn he sees a man attempting to jump
into his trousers-a favourite incident in this
class of stories; and farther along he meets
with a party raking the moon out of a pond.
Another English variant relates that a young
The Three Great Noodles. 197
girl having been left alone in the house, her
mother finds her in tears when she comes
home, and asks the cause of her distress.
"Oh," says the girl, "while you were away,
a brick fell down the chimney, and I thought,
if it had fallen on me I might have been
killed!" The only novel adventure which
the girl's betrothed meets with, in his quest
of three bigger fools, is an old woman trying
to drag an oven with a rope to the table
where the dough lay.
Several versions are current in Italy and
Sicily, which present a close analogy to those
of other European countries. The following
is a translation of one in Bernoni's Venetian
collection:
Once upon a time there were a husband and
a wife who had a son. This son grew up, and
said one day to his mother, "Do you know,
mother, I would like to marry?" "Very
well, marry! Whom do you want to take?"
He answered, "I want
"I want the gardener's
daughter." "She is a good girl-take her;
I am willing." So he went, and asked for the
girl, and her parents gave her to him. They
were married, and when they were in the
midst of their dinner, the wine gave out.
The husband said, "There is no more wine!"
The bride, to show that she was a good
198 The Book of Noodles.
housekeeper, said, "I will go and get some.”
She took the bottles and went to the cellar,
turned the cock, and began to think, "Suppose
I should have a son, and we should call him
Bastianelo, and he should die! Oh, how
grieved I should be! oh, how grieved I should
be!" And thereupon she began to weep and
weep; and meanwhile the wine was running
all over the cellar.
When they saw that the bride did not
return, the mother said, "I will go and see
what the matter is." So she went into the
cellar, and saw the bride, with the bottle in
her hand, and weeping. "What is the
matter with you that you are weeping?"
"Ah, my mother, I was thinking that if I
had a son, and should name him Bastianelo,
and he should die, oh, how I should grieve!
oh, how I should grieve!" The mother, too,
began to weep, and weep, and weep; and
meanwhile the wine was running over the
cellar.
When the people at the table saw that no
one brought the wine, the groom's father
said, "I will go and see what is the matter.
Certainly something wrong has happened to
the bride." He went and saw the whole
cellar full of wine, and the mother and bride
weeping. "What is the matter?" he said;
"has anything wrong happened to you?”
The Three Great Noodles. 199
'No," said the bride; "but I was thinking
that if I had a son, and should call him
Bastianelo, and he should die, oh, how I
should grieve! oh, how I should grieve!"
Then he, too, began to weep, and all three
wept; and meanwhile the wine was running
over the cellar.
When the groom saw that neither the bride,
nor the mother, nor the father came back, he
said, "Now I will go and see what the matter
is that no one returns.” He went into the
cellar and saw all the wine running over
the cellar. He hastened and stopped the
cask, and then asked, "What is the matter
that you are all weeping, and have let the
wine run all over the cellar?" Then the
bride said, "I was thinking that if I had a
son and called him Bastianelo, and he should
die, oh, how I should grieve! oh, how I
should grieve!" Then the groom said, "You
stupid fools! Are you weeping at this and
letting all the wine run into the cellar? Have
you nothing else to think of? It shall never
be said that I remained with you. I will
roam about the world, and until I find three
fools greater than you, I will not return
home."
He had a bread-cake made, took a bottle
of wine, a sausage, and some linen, and made
a bundle, which he put on a stick and carried
200 The Book of Noodles.
over his shoulder. He journeyed and
journeyed, but found no fool. At last he
said, worn out, "I must turn back, for I see
I cannot find a greater fool than my wife."
He did not know what to do, whether to go
on or turn back. "Oh," said he, "it is better
to try and go a little farther." So he went
on, and shortly saw a man in his shirt-sleeves
at a well, all wet with perspiration, and
water. "What are you doing, sir, that you
are so covered with water and in such a
sweat?" "Oh, let me alone," the man
answered; "for I have been here a long
time drawing water to fill this pail, and I
cannot fill it.' "What are you drawing the
water in?" he asked him. "In this sieve,”
he said. "What are you thinking about, to
draw water in that sieve? Just wait!" He
went to a house near by and borrowed a
bucket, with which he returned to the well
and filled the pail. "Thank you, good man.
God knows how long I should have had to
remain here!"-"Here," thought he, "is one
who is a greater fool than my wife.'
>>
He continued his journey, and after a time
he saw at a distance a man in his shirt, who
was jumping down from a tree. He drew
near, and saw a woman under the same
tree, holding a pair of breeches. He asked
them what they were doing, and they said
The Three Great Noodles. 201
that they had been there a long time, and
that the man was trying on those breeches
and did not know how to get into them. "1
have jumped and jumped," said the man,
"until I am tired out, and I cannot imagine
how to get into those breeches." "Oh," said
the traveller, "you might stay here as long as
you wished, for you would never get into them
this way. Come down and lean against the
tree." Then he took his legs and put them
in the breeches, and after he had put them
on, he said, "Is that right?" "Very
good; bless you; for if it had not been for
you, God knows how long I should have
had to jump." Then the traveller said to
himself, "I have seen two greater fools than
my wife."
Then he went his way, and as he approached
a city, he heard a great noise. When he
drew near he asked what it was, and was
told it was a marriage, and that it was the
custom in that city for the brides to enter
the city gate on horseback, and that there
was a great discussion on this occasion be-
tween the groom and the owner of the horse,
for the bride was tall and the horse high, and
they could not get through the gate; so that
they must either cut off the bride's head or
the horse's legs. The groom did not wish
his bride's head cut off, and the owner of the
202 The Book of Noodles.
horse did not wish his horse's legs cut off,
and hence this disturbance. Then the
traveller said, "Just wait," and came up to
the bride and gave her a slap that made her
lower her head, and then he gave the horse a
kick, and so they passed through the gate and
entered the city. The groom and the owner
of the horse asked the traveller what he
wanted, for he had saved the groom his
bride and the owner of the horse his horse.
He answered that he did not wish anything,
and said to himself, "Two and one make
three! that is enough. Now I will go
home." He did so, and said to his wife,
"Here I am, my wife; I have seen three
greater fools than you;-now let us remain
in peace, and think of nothing else.' They
renewed the wedding, and always remained
in peace. After a time the wife had a son,
whom they named Bastianelo, and Bastianelo
did not die, but still lives with his father and
mother.¹
There is (Professor Crane remarks) a
Sicilian version in Pitré's collection, called
"The Peasant of Larcàra," in which the
bride's mother imagines that her daughter has
a son who falls into the cistern.
The groom
' Crane's Italian Popular Tales, pp. 279–282.
The Three Great Noodles. 203
-they are not yet married-is disgusted, and
sets out on his travels with no fixed purpose
of returning if he finds some fools greater
than his mother-in-law, as in the Venetian
tale. The first fool he meets is a mother,
whose child, in playing the game called
nocciole,¹ tries to get his hand out of the hole
whilst his fist is full of stones. He cannot,
of course, and the mother thinks they will
have to cut off his hand. The traveller tells
the child to drop the stones, and then he
draws out his hand easily enough. Next he
finds a bride who cannot enter the church
because she is very tall and wears a high
comb. The difficulty is settled as in the
former story.
After a while he comes to
a woman who is spinning and drops her
spindle. She calls out to the pig, whose
name is Tony, to pick it up for her. The
pig does nothing but grunt, and the woman
in anger cries, "Well, you won't pick it up?
May your mother die!" The traveller, who
had overheard all this, takes a piece of paper,
which he folds up like a letter, and then
knocks at the door. "Who is there?"
"
Open the door, for I have a letter for you
from Tony's mother, who is ill and wishes
¹ A game played with peach-pits, which are
thrown into holes made in the ground, and to
which certain numbers are attached.
204
The Book of Noodles.
to see her son before she dies." The woman
wonders that her imprecation has taken effect
so soon, and readily consents to Tony's
visit. Not only this, but she loads a mule
with everything necessary for the comfort of
the body and soul of the dying pig. The
traveller leads away the mule with Tony,
and returns home so pleased with having
found that the outside world contains so
many fools that he marries as he had first
intended.'
In other Italian versions, a man is trying
to jump into his stockings; another endea-
vours to put walnuts into a sack with a fork;
and a woman dips a knotted rope into a deep
well, and then having drawn it up, squeezes
the water out of the knots into a pail. The
final adventure of the traveller in quest of the
greatest noodles is thus related in Miss
Busk's Folk-lore of Rome :
Towards nightfall he arrived at a lone
cottage, where he knocked, and asked for
a night's lodging. "I can't give you that,"
said a voice from the inside; "for I am a
lone widow. I can't take a man in to sleep
here." "But I am a pilgrim," replied he;
"let me in at least to cook a bit of supper."
¹ Crane's Italian Popular Tales, pp. 282-3.
The Three Great Noodles. 205
""
"That I don't mind doing," said the good
wife, and she opened the door. "Thanks,
good friend," said the pilgrim, as he sat down
by the stove. "Now add to your charity
a couple of eggs in a pan. So she gave him
a pan and two eggs, and a bit of butter to
cook them in; but he took the six eggs out
of his staff and broke them into the pan too.
Presently, when the good wife turned her
head his way again, and saw eight eggs
swimming in the pan instead of two, she
said, "Lack-a-day! you must surely be some
strange being from the other world. Do you
know So-and-so?" naming her husband.
"Oh yes," said he, enjoying the joke; "I
know him very well: he lives just next to
me." "Only to think of that!" replied the
poor woman.
"And, do tell me, how do you
get on in the other world? What sort of
a life is it?" "Oh, not so very bad; it
depends what sort of a place you get. The
part where we are is pretty good, except that
we get very little to eat. Your husband, for
instance, is nearly starved." "No, really?"
cried the good wife, clasping her hands.
"
Only fancy, my good husband starving out
there, so fond as he was of a good dinner,
too!" Then she added, coaxingly, "As you
know him so well, perhaps you wouldn't
mind doing him the charity of taking him
206
The Book of Noodles.
"
a little somewhat, to give him a treat. There
are such lots of things I could easily send
him." "Oh dear, no, not at all. I'll do so
with pleasure," answered he. "But I'm not
going back till to-morrow, and if I don't sleep
here I must go on farther, and then I shan't
come by this way." "That's true," replied
the widow. Ah, well, I mustn't mind what
the folks say; for such an opportunity as
this may never occur again. You must sleep
in my bed, and I must sleep on the hearth;
and in the morning I'll load a donkey with
provisions for my poor husband.” "Oh, no,"
replied the pilgrim, "you shan't be disturbed
in your bed. Only let me sleep on the
hearth-that will do for me; and as I am an
early riser, I can be gone before any one's
astir, so folks won't have anything to say.”
So it was done, and an hour before sunrise
the woman was up, loading the donkey with
the best of her stores-ham, macaroni, flour,
cheese, and wine. All this she committed to
the pilgrim, saying, "You'll send the donkey
back, won't you?" "Of course I would
send him back," he replied; "he'd be of no
use to me out there. But I shan't get out
again myself for another hundred years or so,
and I fear he won't find his way back alone,
for it's no easy way to find." "To be sure
not; I ought to have thought of that,” replied
The Three Great Noodles. 207
the widow. "Ah, well, so as my poor hus-
band gets a good meal, never mind the
donkey." So the pretended pilgrim from the
other world went his way. He hadn't gone a
hundred yards before the widow called him
back. "
'Ah, she's beginning to think better
of it," said he to himself, and he continued
his way, pretending not to hear.
"Good pil-
grim," shouted the widow, "I forgot one
thing: would money be of any use to my
poor husband?” "Oh dear, yes," said he,
"all the use in the world. You can always
get anything for money anywhere." "Oh, do
come back, then, and I'll trouble you with
a hundred scudi for him." He went back,
willingly, for the hundred scudi, which the
widow counted out to him. "There's no
help for it," said he to himself as he went
his way: "I must go back to those at
home."
From sunny Italy to bleak Norway is
certainly a "far cry," yet the adventure of
the “Pilgrim from Paradise" is also known
to the Norse peasants, in connection with the
quest of the greatest noodles: A goody goes
to market, with a cow and a hen for sale.
She wants five shillings for the cow and ten
pounds for the hen. A butcher buys the
cow, but doesn't want the hen. As she can-
208
The Book of Noodles.
not find a buyer for the hen, she goes back
to the butcher, who treats her to so much
brandy that she gets dead-drunk, and in this
condition the butcher tars and feathers her.
When she awakes, she fancies that she must
be some strange bird, and cries out, "Is this
me, or is it not me? I'll go home, and if our
dog barks, then it is not me." Thus far we have
a variant of our favourite nursery rhyme:
There was an old woman, as I've heard tell,
She went to market her eggs for to sell;
She went to market, all on a market-day,
And she fell asleep on the king's highway.
There came a pedlar, whose name was Stout,
He cut her petticoats all round about;
He cut her petticoats up to the knees,
Which made the old woman to shiver and
freeze.
When the little woman first did wake,
She began to shiver and she began to shake
She began to wonder, and she began to cry,
"Lauk-a-mercy on me, this is none of I!"
"But if this be I, as I do hope it be,
I've a little dog at home, and he'll know me;
If it be I, he'll wag his little tail,
And if it be not I, he loudly bark and wail."
Home went the little woman all in the dark,
Up got the little dog, and began to bark;
He began to bark, and she began to cry,
"Lauk-a-mercy on me, this can't be I!"
The Three Great Noodles. 209]
To return to the Norse tale. As in our
nursery rhyme, when the goody reaches
home, the dog barks at her; then she goes to
the calves' house, but the calves, having sniffed
the tar with which she was smeared, turn
away from her in disgust. She is now fully
convinced that she has been transformed into
some outlandish bird, so she climbs on to the
roof of a shed, and begins to flap her arms as
if she were about to fly, when out comes her
goodman, and seeing a suspicious-looking
creature on the roof of the shed, he fetches
his gun and is going to shoot at his goody,
when he recognises her voice. Amazed at
such a piece of folly, he resolves to leave her
and not come back till he has found three
goodies as silly. He meets with a female
descendant of the Schildburgers, evidently,
carrying into her cottage sunshine in a sieve,
there being no window in the house: he cuts
out a window for her and is well paid for his
trouble. He next comes to a house where
an old woman is thumping her goodman on
the head with a beetle, in order to force over
him a shirt without a slit for the neck, which
she had drawn over his head: he cuts a slit
in the shirt with a pair of scissors, and is
amply rewarded for his ingenuity. His third
adventure is similar to that of the "pilgrim"
in the Italian version:
14
210
The Book of Noodles.
At another house he informs the goody that
he came from Paradise Place-which was the
name of his own farm-and she asks him if
he knew her second husband in paradise.
(She had been married twice before she took
her present husband, who was an old cur-
mudgeon, and she liked her second husband
best-she was sure he had gone to heaven.)
He replies that he knew him very intimately,
but, poor man, he was far from well off, hav-
ing to go about begging from house to house.
The goody gives him a cart-load of clothes and
a box of shining dollars, for her dear second
husband; for why should he go about begging
in paradise when there was so much of
everything in their house? So the stranger
jumps into the cart and drives off, as fast as
possible. But Peter, the goody's third hus-
band, sees him on the road, and recognising
his own horse and cart, hastens home to his
wife, and asks why a stranger has gone off
with his property. She explains the whole
affair, upon which he mounts a horse and
gallops away after the rogue who had thus
taken advantage of his wife's simplicity. The
stranger, perceiving him approach, hides the
horse and cart behind a high hedge, takes
part of the horse's tail and hangs it on the
branches of a birch-tree, and then lays him-
self down on his back and gazes up into the
The Three Great Noodles. 211
sky. When Peter comes up to him, he exclaims,
still looking at the sky, "What a wonder
there is a man going straight to heaven on a
black horse!" Peter can see no such thing.
"Can you not?" says the stranger.
there is his tail, still on the birch-tree.
"See,
You
must lie down in this very spot, and look
straight up, and don't for a moment take your
eyes off the sky, and then you'll see what
you'll see." So Peter lies down and gazes
up at the sky very intently, looking for the
man going straight to heaven on a black horse.
Meanwhile the traveller escapes, with the
cart-load of clothes and the box of shining
dollars, and the second horse besides. Peter,
when he reaches home, tells his wife that
he had given the man from paradise the other
horse for her second husband to ride about
on, for he was ashamed to contess that he had
been cheated as well as herself. As to our
traveller, having found three goodies as great
fools as his own, he returned home, and saw
that all his fields had been ploughed and
sown; so he asked his wife where she had
got the seed from. 'Oh," says she, "I have
always heard that what a man sows he shall
also reap, so I sowed the salt that our friends
the north-countrymen laid up with us, and if we
""
1
'The same story is told in Brittany, with no
important variations.
212
The Book of Noodles.
only have rain, I fancy it will come up nicely."
"
Silly you are," said her husband, "and silly
you will be as long as you live. But that is
all one now, for the rest are not a bit wiser
than you; there is not a pin to choose between
you!" 2
Now, if it be "a far cry" from Italy to
Norway, it is still farther from Norway to
India; and yet it is in the southern provinces
of our great Asiatic empire that a story is
current among the people, which, strange as
it may seem, is almost the exact counterpart
of the Norse version of the pretended pilgrim
from paradise, of which the above is an
abstract. It is found in Pandit S. M. Natésa
Sástrí's Folk-lore in Southern India, now in
course of publication at Bombay; a work
which, when completed, will be of very great
value to students of comparative folk-tales,
1
¹ Quite as literally did the rustic understand
the priest's assurance, that whatsoever one gave
in charity, for the love of God, should be repaid
him twofold: next day he takes his cow to the
priest, who accepts it as sent by Heaven-and the
poor man did not get two cows in return. The
story is known in various forms all over Europe;
it was a special favourite in medieval times.
See Le Grand's Fabliaux, tome iii., 376: "La
Vache du Curé," by the trouvère Jean de Boves;
Wright's Latin Stories; Icelandic Legends, etc.
Dasent's Popular Tales from the Norse.
The Three Great Noodles. 213
as well as prove an entertaining story-book for
general readers. After condensation in some
parts, this story-which the Pandit entitles
"The Good Wife and the Bad Husband".
runs thus:
In a secluded village there lived a rich man,
who was very miserly, and his wife, who was
very kind-hearted and charitable, but a stupid
little woman that believed everything she
heard. And there lived in the same village a
clever rogue, who had for some time watched
for an opportunity for getting something from
this simple woman during her husband's
absence. So one day, when he had seen the
old miser ride out to inspect his lands, this
rogue of the first water came to the house, and
fell down at the threshold as if overcome by
fatigue. The woman ran up to him at once
and inquired whence he came.
"I am come
from Kailása," said he; "having been sent
down by an old couple living there, for news
of their son and his wife.' "Who are those
fortunate dwellers in Siva's mountain?" she
asked. And the rogue gave the names of her
husband's deceased parents, which he had
taken good care, of course, to learn from the
neighbours. "Do you really come from them?"
said the simple woman. "Are they doing
well there? Dear old people! How glad
""
1 See note, p. 49.
214
The Book of Noodles.
my husband would be to see you, were he
here! Sit down, please, and rest until he
returns. How do they live there? Have they
enough to eat and dress themselves withal?"
These and a hundred other questions she put
to the rogue, who, for his part, wished to get
away as soon as possible, knowing full well
how he would be treated if the miser should
return while he was there. So he replied,
"Mother, language has no words to describe
the miseries they are undergoing in the other
world. They have not a rag of clothing, and
for the last six days they have eaten nothing,
and have lived on water only. It would break
your heart to see them.” The rogue's
pathetic words deceived the good woman,
who firmly believed that he had come down
from Kailása, a messenger from the old couple
to herself. Why should they so suffer,"
said she, "when their son has plenty to eat
and clothe himself withal, and when their
daughter-in-law wears all sorts of costly
garments?" So saying, she went into the
house, and soon came out again with two
boxes containing all her own and her hus-
band's clothes, which she handed to the rogue,
desiring him to deliver them to the poor old
couple in Kailása. She also gave him her
jewel-box, to be presented to her mother-in-
law. "But dress and jewels will not fill their
The Three Great Noodles. 215
hungry stomachs," said the rogue. "Very
true; I had forgot: wait a moment," said the
simple woman, going into the house once
more. Presently returning with her hus-
band's cash chest, she emptied its glittering
contents into the rogue's skirt, who now took
his leave in haste, promising to give every-
thing to the good old couple in Kailása; and
having secured all the booty in his upper
garment, he made off at the top of his speed
as soon as the silly woman had gone indoors.
Shortly after this the husband returned
home, and his wife's pleasure at what she had
done was so great that she ran to meet him at
the door, and told him all about the arrival of
the messenger from Kailása, how his parents
were without clothes and food, and how she
had sent them clothes and jewels and store of
money. On hearing this, the anger of the
husband was great; but he checked himself,
and inquired which road the messenger from
Kailása had taken, saying that he wished to
follow him with a further message for his
parents. So she very readily pointed out the
direction in which the rogue had gone. With
rage in his heart at the trick played upon his
stupid wife, he rode off in hot haste, and after
having proceeded a considerable distance, he
caught sight of the flying rogue, who, finding
escape hopeless, climbed up into a pípal tree.
216 The Book of Noodles.
The husband soon reached the foot of the
tree, when he shouted to the rogue to come
down. "No, I cannot," said he; "this is the
way to Kailása," and then climbed to the very
top of the tree. Seeing there was no chance
of the rogue coming down, and there being
no one near to whom he could call for help,
the old miser tied his horse to a neighbouring
tree, and began to climb up the pipal himself.
When the rogue observed this, he thanked all
his gods most fervently, and having waited
until his enemy had climbed nearly up to him,
he threw down his bundle of booty, and then
leapt nimbly from branch to branch till he
reached the ground in safety, when he mounted
the miser's horse and with his bundle rode
into a thick forest, where he was not likely
to be discovered. Being thus balked the
miser came down the pipal tree slowly, curs-
ing his own stupidity in having risked his
horse to recover the things which his wife had
given the rogue, and returned home at leisure.
His wife, who was waiting his return,
welcomed him with a joyous countenance, and
cried, "I thought as much: you have sent
away your horse to Kailása, to be used by
your old father." Vexed at his wife's words,
as he was, he replied in the affirmative, to
conceal his own folly.
The Three Great Noodles. 217
Through the Tamils it is probable this story
reached Ceylon, where it exists in a slightly
different form: A young girl, named Kaluhámi,
had lately died, when a beggar came to the
parents' house, and on being asked by the
mother where he had come from, he said that
he had just come from the other world to this
world, meaning that he had only just recovered
from severe illness. "Then," said the woman,
"since you have come from the other world,
you must have seen my daughter Kaluhámi
there, who died but a few days ago. Pray
tell me how she is." The beggar, seeing
how simple she was, replied,
"She is my
wife, and lives with me at present, and she
has sent me to you for her dowry." The
woman at once gave him all the money and
jewels that were in the house, and sent him
away delighted with his unexpected good
luck. Soon after, the woman's husband
returned, and learning how silly she had
been, mounted his horse and rode after the
beggar. The rest of the story corresponds
to the Tamil version, as above, with the ex-
ception that when the husband saw the beggar
slide down the tree, get on his horse, and
ride off, he cried out to him, "Hey, son-in-
law, you may tell Kaluhámi that the money
and jewels are from her mother, and that the
horse is from me;" which is altogether in-
218 The Book of Noodles.
consistent, since he is represented as the
reverse of a simpleton in pursuing the beggar,
on hearing what his wife had done. It is curi-
ous, also, to observe that in the Tamil version
the man goes to the house with the deliberate
purpose of deceiving the simple woman, while
in the Sinhalese the beggar is evidently
tempted by her mistaking the meaning of his
words. But both present very close points
of resemblance to the Norwegian story of the
pretended pilgrim from paradise. There are
indeed few instances of a story having
travelled so far and lost so little of its original
details, allowing for the inevitable local
colouring.
1


APPENDIX.

HE idea of the old English jest-
book, Jacke of Dover His Quest
of Inquirie, or His Privy Search
for the Veriest Foole in England
(London: 1604), may perhaps have been
suggested by such popular tales as those of
the man going about in quest of three greater
fools than his wife, father-in-law, and mother-
in-law. It is, however, simply a collection of
humorous anecdotes, not specially examples
of folly or stupidity, most of which are found
in earlier jest-books. The introduction is
rather curious:
"When merry Jacke of Dover had made
his privy search for the Foole of all Fooles,
and making his inquirie in most of the
principal places in England, at his return
home he was adjudged to be the fool him-
self; but now wearied with the motley cox-
combe, he hath undertaken in some place or
other to find a verier foole than himself. But
220
Appendix.
first of all, coming to London, he went into
Paul's Church, where walking very melan-
choly in the middle aisle with Captain
Thingut and his fellowes, he was invited to
dine at Duke Humphry's ordinary,' where,
amongst other good stomachs that repaired
to his bountiful feast, there came a whole
jury of penniless poets, who being fellows of
a merry disposition (but as necessary in a
commonwealth as a candle in a straw bed),
he accepted of their company, and as from
poets cometh all kind of folly, so he hoped
by their good directions to find out his Foole
of Fooles, so long looked for. So, thinking
to pass away the dinner-hour with some
pleasant chat (lest, being overcloyed with too
many dishes, they should surfeit), he dis-
covered to them his merry meaning, who,
being glad of so good an occasion of mirth,
instead of a cup of sack and sugar for diges-
tion, these men of little wit began to make
inquiry and to search for the aforesaid fool,
thinking it a deed of charity to ease him of so
great a burden as his motley coxcomb was,
and because such weak brains as are now
resident almost in every place, might take
1 In the nave of St. Paul's (says Timbs, in his
Curiosities of Old London) was the tomb of Sir
John Beauchamp, son of Guy, Earl of Warwick:
it was unaccountably called "Duke Humphrey's
Tomb," and the dinnerless persons who lounged
here were said to dine with Duke Humphrey.
Appendix.
221
benefit hereat. In this manner began the
inquiry:
The Foole of Hereford.
'Upon a time (quoth one of the jury) it
was my chance to be in the city of Hereford,
when, lodging at an inn, I was told of a cer-
tain silly-witted gentleman there dwelling,
that would assuredly believe all things that
he heard for a truth; to whose house I went
upon a sleeveless errand, and finding occasion
to be acquainted with him, I was well en-
tertained, and for three days' space had my
bed and board in his house; where, amongst
many other fooleries, I, being a traveller,
made him believe that the steeple of Brent-
wood, in Essex, sailed in one night as far as
Calais, in France, and afterwards returned
again to its proper place. Another time I
made him believe that in the forest of Sher-
wood, in Nottinghamshire, were seen five
hundred of the King of Spain's galleys,
which went to besiege Robin Hood's Well,
and that forty thousand scholars with elder
squirts performed such a piece of service as
they were all in a manner taken and over-
thrown in the forest. Another time I made
him believe that Westminster Hall, for sus-
picion of treason, was banished for ten years
222
Appendix.
into Staffordshire. And last of all, I made
him believe that a tinker should be baited
to death at Canterbury for getting two and
twenty children in a year; whereupon, to
prove me a liar, he took his horse and rode
thither, and I, to verify him a fool, took my
horse and rode hither.'
'Well,' quoth Jacke of Dover, 'this in my
mind was pretty foolery, but yet the Foole of
all Fooles is not here found that I looked for.'
The Fool of Huntington.
"And it was my chance (quoth another of
the jury) upon a time to be at Huntington,
where I heard tell of a simple shoemaker there
dwelling, who having two little boys whom
he made a vaunt to bring up to learning, the
better to maintain themselves when they were
men; and having kept them a year or two at
school, he examined them saying, "My good
boy," quoth he to one of them, "what dost
thou learn and where is thy lesson?" "O
father," said the boy, "I am past grace."
"And where art thou?" quoth he to the other
boy, who likewise answered that he was at
the devil and all his works. "Now Lord
bless us," quoth the shoemaker, whither
are my children learning? The one is
already past grace and the other at the
(C
Appendix.
223
devil and all his works!" Whereupon he
took them both from school and set them to
his own occupation.¹'”
A number of others of the jury of penni-
less poets having related their stories, at last
it-is agreed that if the Foole of all Fooles
cannot be found among those before named,
one of themselves must be the fool, for there
cannot be a verier fool than a poet, "for poets
have good wits, but cannot use them, great
store of money, but cannot keep it,” etc.
39
It is doubtful what the name "Jack of
Dover imports, as that of the imaginary
inquirer after fools. The author of the Cook's
Tale of Gamelyn-which is generally con-
sidered as a spurious "Canterbury' tale—
represents, in the prologue, mine host of the
Tabard as saying to Roger the Cook :
1 The jest is thus told in some parts of Scot-
land: An old gentleman, walking in the country,
met three small boys on their way home from
school, and asked them how they progressed in
their learning. The youngest-referring, of
course, to the Shorter Catechism-replied that he
was "in a state of sin and misery;" the second,
that he was past "redemption;" and the eldest,
that he was "in the pains of hell for ever."
224
Appendix.
"Full many a pastie hast thou lettin blode;
And many a jack of Dovyr hast thou sold,
That hath ben twicè hot and twicè cold."
Dr. Brewer says-apparently on the strength
of these lines-that a "Jack of Dover"
is a fish that has been cooked a second time,
But it may have been a name of a particular
kind of fish caught in the waters off Dover.
If, however, a "Jack of Dover" is a twice-
cooked fish, the title of the jest-book is not
inappropriate, since all the stories it com-
prises are at least "twice-told.”


INDEX.
Abdera, Man of, 6.
Alewife and her Hens, 73.
Alfonsus, Peter, 45.
Arab and his Cow, 70.
Arab Schoolmaster, 83.
Arabian Idiot, 133.
Arabian Nights, 81, 83, 133,
146.
Arabian Noodles, 70, 75, 107,
147.
Armstrong's, Archie, Ban-
quet of Jests, 74.
Ashton, John, xiv.
Ass and the Two Sharpers,
81.
Austwick, Carles of, 17,53,54.
Avadánas, 53.
Babrius, 53.
Bakki, Biothers of, 32, 64.
Bang-eater and his Wife, 147.
Bang-eaters and the Dogs,
109.
Barrett, F. T., 9.
Burn' o' the Door, 107.
Belmont, Fools ol, 55.
Beryn, Tale of, 40.
Beschi, Father, 29.
Bharataka Dwati insati, 158.
F garrures of the Sieur Gau-
lard, 8, 12, 20, 76,
Bidpai's Fables, 53.
Buth-Stories-see Játakas.
Boccaccio's Decameron, 19.
"Boiling" River, 30, 43.
Bond, The Lord's, 17.
Borde, Andrew, 23.
Brahmans, Four Simple, 171.
Bromyard, John, 167.
Buddha's Five Precepts, 69.
Bull and the Gate, 54.
Bull of Siva, 48.
Burton's Arabian Nights,83.
Busk's Folk-Lore of Rome,
204.
Butter eaten by a Dog, 18.
Buzzard, The Gothamite's,
38.
Cabbage-Tree, 47.
Caftan on Tree, 90.
Calf's Head in a Pot, 89.
Campbell's Popular Tales
of the West Highlands,
32, 33, 34, 35, 36, 154, 193.
Cat and old woman, 05.
Cat, Men of Schilda's, or.
Cazotte s New Arabian
Nights, 133.
Ceylon see
Noodles.
Sinhalese
Chamberlain, B. H., 130.
Cheese, I he Gothanuite's, 34.
Cheese on the Highway, 40.
Cheese, The Stolen, 91.
Chinese Noodles, 93, 94.
Coelho s Contes Portu-
yllezes, 12J.
15
226
Index.
Colombo, Michele, 81.
Conde Lucanor, 162.
Countryman and Dog, 79.
Cozens, F. W., 9.
Council-House, Dark, 57.
Crane's Italian Popular
Tales, 117, 128,139, 202, 204.
Cuckoo, Hedging in the, 26.
Cumeans and the bath, 4;
and the father's corpse,
15; and the fig-tree, ro;
and the pot of honey, 19;
and the stolen clothes, 4.
Dark Council-House, 57.
Dasent's Norse Tales, 126,
212.
Dekker's Gul's Horn Book,
26.
Devil in the Meadow, 42.
Disciplina Clericalis, 45.
Doctor and Patients, 5.
Doctor's Apprentice, 108.
Dog that ate Honey, 18.
Door, Taking Care of the,
97, 98.
Dieams, The Good, 92, 93.
Dubois, Abbé, 171.
Duke Humphrey, Dining
with, 220.
Ear, Biting one's own, 86.
Eberbaid's Heraclis, 3.
Fel, Drowning the, 33.
Fnglish typical booby, 139.
Fabliaux, Le Grand s, 39, 163.
Family, Best of the, 105.
Farmer and his Pigs, 54.
Fisher, Indian Silly Son as,
163.
Fishers, Gothamite, 28.
Fleas, Bit by, 14.
Folk-Lore
272 Southern
India, 212.
Fool and the aloes-wood, 98;
and the buch-tree, 151;
and the cotton, 99; and tne
cup lost in the sea, 99;
and the elephant divci,
51; and his porridge, 119;
and the Ramayana, 70;
1
and the sack of meal, 19,
25, 68; and the shop-
keeper, 100; at his fire-
side, 119; kicked by his
mule, 119; of Hereford,
221; of Huntingdon, 222.
Fools and the buffalo, 101;
and the Bull of Siva, 48;
and their inheritance, 118
and the mosquitoes, 95;
and the palm-trees, 96;
and the trunks, 96.
Fortini's Italian Novels, 162.
Fuller, Thomas, on the
Gothamites, 20.
Furnivall, F. J., 23.
Gaulard, The Sieur, 8, 12,
20, 76.
Geese and Tortoise, 52.
Gesta Romanorum, 117, 163.
Gibb's Forty Vazirs, 109,
166, 167.
Giufà, the Sicilian Booby,
97, 139, 165.
Goat and Old Woman, 66.
Gooroo Paramartan, 29, 37,
157.
Gossips and their late Hus-
bands, 74.
Gossips at the Alehouse, 40.
Gotham, Tales of the Mad
Men of, x1i1., 20, 24-44.
Grazzini's Florentine Fool,
161.
Grecian Noodles, 1-15.
Halliwell-Phillipps, J. O.,
xxil., I3, 22, 27, 53
Hama and Hums, Men of, 75.
Hazlitt, W. C., xili., 12.
Heaven, Sorry he has gone
to, 74.
Herdsman, The Foolish, 106.
Herodotus, Stephens' Apo-
logy tor, 119.
Hierokies, Jests of, 2
Hitopadesa, 162.
Honey, Pot of, 6, 18.
Hunter's Dream of a Boar,
Index
Icelandic Noodles, 32,64, 163.
Indian Noodles, 29, 37, 44,
48, 51, 70, 96, 97-106, 111,
118, 158, 161, 163, 170, 212.
Italian Noodles, 115, 127,
143, 160, 197, 202, 204.
Irish Labourer and Farmer,
8.
Irishman and his ass, 119.
Irishman and his hens, 120.
Irishman and lost shovel, 99.
Irishmen and mosquitoes,
14.
Irishman's Dream, 92.
Jack of Dover's Quest, 219.
Japanese Noodle, 130.
Játakas (Buddhist Birth-
Stories), 52, 65, 95, 164.
Jests of Scogin, 162.
Joe Miller's Jest-Book, 1, 2.
Judge and Thieves, 87.
Kabail Tales, 37, 154.
Kashmiri Tales, 65, 89, 111.
Katha Manjari, 11, 70, ICO,
163.
Katha Sarit Ságara, 48, 53,
120, 164.
Kerchief, The, go.
Khoja Nasr-ed-Dín, 89.
King's Stupid Son, The, 167.
Knife, The Gothamites', 53.
Knowles, J. H., 66, 113.
Laird of Logan, 13.
Leger's Contes Populaires
Slaves, 128, 154.
Marie de France, 46.
Mery Tales and Quicke An-
sieres, 161.
Miller's Jest-Book, 1, 2.
Millstone of the Schild-
burgers, 59.
Minstrel and Pupil, 166.
Monk Transformed, 81.
Moon a green cheese, 44.
Moon in the well, 92.
227
Moon swallowed by an ass,
46.
"Mortuus Loquens," 160.
Mummy, The, 15.
Nasr-ed-Din Khoja, 89.
Natesa Sastri Pandit, 212.
Needham's Hieroclis, 3.
Noodles, The Three Great,
191.
Norfolk Noodles, 17.
Norse Noodles, 123, 207.
Notts Bridge, 24.
Orientalist, The, 69, 87, 114,
143, 160.
Pancha Tantra, 67, 171.
Paradise, Man who came
from, 204, 210, 212, 217.
Pedant, baid man, and bar-
ber, 6; and the lost book,
13; and his dream, 5, 6;
and the jar of feathers, 5;
and his jar of wine, 9; and
the mirror, 9; and the two
slave-boys, 4; and his
slave who died, 8; and
the sparrows, 5; and the
twin-brothers, 12; and his
tomb, 8.
Persian Noodle, 7.
Persian Tales, 7, 66, 79.
Philotimus, 27.
Poet and the Dogs, 79.
Poggius' Facetia, 160, 162.
Priest of Gotham, 42.
Princess caused to grow, 102.
Pupil, The Attentive, 165.
Ralston's Russian Folk-
Tales, 48, 153.
Relic-hunter, 95.
Rents of Gothamites, 27.
Right Hand or Left, 91.
River, "Boiling," 30, 43.
Rivière's Contes Populaires
de la Kabylie du Djur-
djura, 37, 154.
228
Index.
Russian Noodles, 47, 128,
151, 154, 195.
Rustic and the Dog, 79.
Sacke Full of Newes, 46, 97.
Sa'di's Gulistán, xi, 79.
Schilda, The Men of, 56.
Schoolmaster's Lady-love,
83.
Sesame, Roasted, 120.
Sheep's Eyes, Casting, 41,
126, 127.
Sicilian Boobies, 97, 116, 139,
165.
Silent Noodles, 107-117.
Silly Matt, 123.
Silly Son, The, 121.
Simple Simon, 121, 122.
Simpleton and Sharpers, 81.
Sindibád Náma, 66.
Sinhalese Noodles, 67-69, 87,
89, 113, 141, 165, 179, 217.
Smith, Alexander, 9.
Spade, The Stolen, 94.
Spinning-Wheel, The, 36,
Stephens, Henry, Tales by,
119.
Stokes' Indian Fairy Tales,
154.
Summa
The, 167.
Prædicantium,
Tabourot, Etienne, 8.
Tales and Quicke Answeres,
IÓI.
Tawney, C. H., 48.
Taylor's Wit and Mirth, 9,
10, 74, 78.
Thief on a Tree, 11.
Thoms, W. J., xii., 56.
Thoroton's History of Not-
tinghamshire, 21.
Three Greatest Noodles, 191.
Treasure Trove, 144, 151,
154.
Trivet, The Gothamite's, 36.
Turkish Noodles, 11, 86, 90,
93, 109, 166, 167.
Twelve Fishers, The, 28.
Twin Brothers, 12.
Vives, Ludovicus, 46.
Warton's History of English
Poetry, 22.
Washerman and his young
Ass, 103.
Wasp's Nest, 40.
"Whittle to the Tree," 53.
Widows, The Two, 74.
Wiltshire Noodles, 17, 54-
Wither's Abuses Whipt and
Stript, 26.
Wolf's Tail, The, 91.
Wood, Anthony, on the
Gotham Tales, 23.
Worsted Balls, The, 35.
Wrestler and the Wag, 7.
Wrong Man wakened, 6, 7.


UNIVERSITY OF MICHIGAN
3 9015 00554 4195
DO NOT REMOVE
OR
MUTILATE CARD