Books for Sale!

Erotic Folktales from Norway is available to purchase.

And here are the addresses:

Paperback The paperback edition is available from Amazon here (UK) and here (US).

Kindle ebook The Kindle edition is available from Amazon here (UK) and here (US).

There is also a large type edition available, for those who might want to show everyone on the train what they are reading.

News Update

It has been some months since I updated this blog. I have news, and the news is good for those who have enjoyed reading the erotic folktales I have posted. There will be a book. It will be available as an ebook and a paperback, and the cover will look like this:

The cover art is by Erik Werenskiold, and was originally produced for Peter Christen Asbjørnsen’s folktale “The Companion”.

Thanks to the amazing (and free) typesetting software, TeX, the book will be laid out like this:

Additionally, I will be producing promotional material that might look like this:

And I will be decorating my Twitter account like this:

I expect I will change things around here, too, with a pinned post that includes links to Amazon, etc.

All the tales will remain here, however. Unless I sell out to a publisher, I see no reason why people should not be able to read these gems of folk culture.

The Yule Buck and the Girl

One autumn a long time ago, there was such a long drought that the millrace dried up for folk; they had to use a hand mill to grind their flour and malt.

So there was a girl who sat milling for all she was worth, day after day; but it helped little, and she grew less and less eager, and more and more bored of it. Just as she sat like that, the Yule buck came to her and asked if she wanted help with the milling.

“I wouldn’t say no to that,” replied the girl, “if only there were someone who would.”

“I shall help you,” said the buck, “if I may lie with you Yuletide night.”

“Oh, well—yes, I suppose you may,” said the girl, a little lazily, “if only I may escape this blessed grinding.”

So the buck began to grind, and the girl just sat at her ease, watching.

So it went all autumn; the buck milled so the flour flew, and all the while he sang:

Grind, grind now like a fool,
But fourteen days until Yule.
As Yuletide night draws on,
I’ll sleep on a maiden’s bosom.

But on Yuletide eve, the girl became horrified. She went to the farmer and told him of the wages she had promised the buck for milling, and asked for advice.

“Don’t be afraid,” said the man. “I shall help you.”

So when the evening came, and the girl should go to bed, he took a cauldron of tar and hung it over the fire until it was at the point of boiling, and then he put it in the bed before her.

A while later something came thundering up the stairs and into the loft, straight towards the bed. There it tore off its clothes, and sat right in the cauldron of tar. And then there was a dance, perhaps! The buck got up as quickly as he could, and went through the door with a screech and a scream:

Ow! Ow! The Christian girl was hot!
She was hot! She was hot!
She was burning hot!

Hans from Tinn

It was in the time that Norway lay under Denmark that there was disquiet, you know, on account of the king’s officials; and so there was sent a terribly good fellow from Tinn, whose name was Hans, to go to Denmark to get some justice and satisfaction on this matter. Down in Denmark, he came upon a great forest, and there he came across a knight who was so stately that it was terrible, with a sword and such. They fell in together, and began to talk, too, until they came to a cabin where there was a light. There they were allowed to stay.

As they sat down at the table, twelve robbers came in, and they ingratiated themselves with them as best they could. But Hans overheard them talking among themselves, that Hans they would have, for he was a big, strong fellow; but the other one they would kill.

There were ten Danes, a Swede, and a Norwegian they called Guttorm Nordman. He was betrothed to Ragnhild, the girl in the house; and then there was an old mother for the robbers—she was there, too.

As the evening drew on, the Swede began to wrestle with Hans, and it turned into a fight between them. But Hans merely defended himself. When it then grew so serious that it became a fight to the death, Hans stabbed him in the heart.

The stranger fellow climbed up on the porch, on some loose planks, and as he crawled forward, to see, then the planks fell down with him on them, straight on to the head of Guttorm Nordman, and knocked him unconscious.

Then the stranger fellow killed three, and Hans killed seven, and that was the end of them.

As they were retiring for the evening, Hans said:

“Well, now we each have a bed, so now you can choose whom you will have, whether you will lie with the old one, or prefer the young one.” The stranger fellow did not answer, and so Hans took and threw Ragnhild up into his bed.

“You will want the young one, I suppose,” he said. Then he bound his sword to the bed post, and closed it off.

“Now no one gets out,” said Hans. And then he lay down with the old woman, and slept straight away. But the old woman wanted to get up, and do something bad, but then she ran straight against the sword, and stabbed herself to death. And so that was the end of her, too.

The next day, Hans went with the stranger fellow; he was going to the king’s farm, he said. Hans took one of the robber’s horses and rode it. After a little while, they saw the town, and Hans was so jolly and glad.

He met a man, and he said to him:

“If you will kiss my horse’s arse, then you can have it,” he said.

Well, he did so; he kissed it both behind and before, and so Hans would give him the horse. But then he began to make mischief with the horse, too, did Hans; he jumped over him and did many tricks.

Then they came to some terribly fine houses. This Hans understood to be the king’s farm; and everyone bowed before this fellow; and Hans went quiet, too, for then he understood that it was the king he had been together with.

In the evening, he said it:

“Which one would you rather have, the old one or the young one?” said the king. Now, he had a queen, you know, and a daughter. Hans did not answer, but held his tongue. “You will probably want the young one, I think,” he said, and then he threw the young one up into Hans’s bed. And that is how Hans won the king’s daughter; and there was a King Hans.

And then he put things right with the officials at Tinn, too.

A Breather

So that is the last tale translated and posted. I will be publishing the collection in due course, after I have finished writing an introduction, and an appendix with all the technical details of who collected each tale, from whom, and where, and when.

Then there is the arduous task of editing. Since these are translated tales, a structural edit will not be necessary; but nearly every time I look over the tales, I find typos, errant punctuation (especially my beloved semicolons), confusing phrasing, and the odd wooden phrase or two. All of these things need weeding out.

Finally, there is the question of publication. I have been compiling an e-book and a LaTeX file as I have been going along, which means that the files are ready for self-publication—electronically and physically—as soon as the edits are done. What I have to do is reflect on the benefits (if any) of traditional publishing, and whether or not I can be bothered with all the hoop-jumping that it entails. I tend to flip–flop on this last point—I dislike hoops and everything they stand for.

And so… Until I clear some of these questions up in my mind, here is the table of contents as of today:

The Canny Boy

Once upon a time, there was a boy who should go into service. So he came to a man to negotiate his wages. And he did not demand much. He would work for nothing until the wife of the house began to speak in foreign tongues, he said; but should she do so, then he should have a hundred dollars.

Well, the man quickly agreed to this, for he could never believe that his wife would ever speak in a foreign tongue.

When the boy had been there a short while, he said that he did not like to sleep alone. He was so afraid, he said, that he would have to lie with the farmer folk. The husband was reluctant, but eventually agreed that the boy could sleep at the front of the bed. He should lie in the middle, and his wife against the wall. But the boy was not satisfied with this. It was not fitting that the wife should lie against the wall, he said. She should lie between them, where it was nice and warm, and he would lie against the wall, he said. And he continued to nag until the man agreed to this, too.

Now it happened that the parson in the village had come to the farm on the same evening, and should stay until the morning. He was a great friend of the farmer folk, and often came to spend the night. He slept in a small chamber beside the parlour, and had his bed on the other side of the wall from the bed in the parlour. And that is where he lay this night, too.

When they had gone to bed, and the man and his wife had fallen asleep, the boy heard some scraping from the bed where the parson lay. And just like that, something came probing and poking through a knothole in the wall, just by him. It was the parson, who had stuck his member in like that, and wanted to reach the woman. She usually lay tight against the wall, and they had intercourse with each other in this manner each time the parson was there at night. And now, when the boy saw this, he was not slow. He took his pocket knife and sliced the whole of the parson’s member off, and put it in his pocket. Then he lay down to sleep, as if he knew nothing of it.

When they got up in the morning, things fared badly with the parson. He was both pale and poorly to look at. But they could not get out of him what the matter was with him. He was just very sorrowful, and in pain, and he went away.

The woman thought this was unfortunate and painful, so she went off and cooked a great bowl of porridge that she would go to the parson with, and make sure to appease him. The servant boy went with her, to carry the porridge. And when they had gone some way, he took the parson’s member out of his pocket and slipped it into the porridge without the woman seeing. The parson was still very sorrowful and in pain, when they arrived. And at first he would neither see them nor receive the porridge. But at length, the woman persuaded him to taste a little of it. But he had not taken many spoonfuls before he found something untoward in the porridge, and he quickly saw what it was, too. Had he been angry before, then he got no better now. And he thought it was the woman who had both used the knife on him and now done this afterwards, to make a complete fool of him. He threw aside the spoon, and ran straight at the woman. But she understood nothing, and thought only that it was passionate play from him, and that he would kiss her. She made herself as happy as a lark, and poked her tongue out at him, and before she knew anything more, he had bitten her tongue right off, and chased her out the door.

When the woman came home, she was both pale and poorly, and could not say a proper word. She just drooled and said, “baba, baba.” Her husband first thought she had lost her mind, but when the servant boy came in, he said: “It is easy to hear, this is. She has begun to speak in foreign tongues. And I shall have my pay,” he said.

Well, in the end, the man understood that it must be so, him too; so he had to find the money. Then the boy went on his way, and had a hundred dollars in his pocket for only two–three days’ work.

Cabe

In the east, there once lived a very wise man whose name was Cabe. He had a habit of fooling or making a fool of anyone he would. His reputation for this soon spread across the whole country, and eventually it reached the king’s ears. He had no faith in such gossip, but said: “Cabe must fool whom he will, but he will never fool me!”

And so he set himself the task of trying Cabe, and bringing his great reputation to ruin. He chose some men, therefore, whom he could trust, and took them with him to visit the famous Cabe.

Meanwhile, Cabe had also heard of this plan of the king’s. And quick thinking as he was, he made a decision to fool the king. Cabe owned an iron cauldron, large and reasonably thick. This he made glowing hot, and took it out and stood in the road where he believed the king would have to pass. He put the cauldron on a stump, and filled it with water, which was quick to boil. And a little while afterwards, the king came.

The king, who did not know that this was Cabe, stopped and spoke with him. All the while, Cabe threw one piece of meat after the other into the cauldron, which continued to boil until it eventually boiled over.

The king marvelled aloud over such a spectacle, the like of which he had never seen before. And he asked Cabe how it could be so. “Oh,” said Cabe, “such things happen at my command.”

“And without wood,” said the king.

“You understand,” replied Cabe, “that with wood, any old cauldron will boil.”

“Will you sell your cauldron?” said the king; “I will pay well for it.”

“Well, I would hate to lose such a property,” said Cabe, “but for the sake of the one who asks, I can hardly say no.”

“What do you want for your cauldron, then?” asked the king.

“A hundred dollars,” replied Cabe.

“Here is your money, and my thanks. Now I must go home and try my new cauldron,” said the king, “and let Cabe go unvisited. Good day, my good man.”

He arrived home and commanded that they should fetch his fattest calf and slaughter it; “for,” he said, “a new cauldron and good meat go well together!”

He cut the meat into the cauldron himself, and waited and waited for it to boil. But in vain; the cauldron did not begin to boil. Now he realised that he had been fooled, and hurried off to find the trickster.

When he came to the same place, he met the man. He approached the king with such elegant politeness that the king’s wrath subsided. The man appeared much grieved that he had forgotten to tell the king that it was not merely the cauldron, but also the stump that summoned the power for the boiling.

“I would not sell it,” he said, “for many hundred dollars, in these wood-free areas, where one must pay dearly for each and every stick of fuel. But to assuage my shame, I will sell it for half its value, or for two hundred dollars.”

The king agreed the terms, paid the money, and returned home, happy with the valuable stump. Now he filled the cauldron again with meat and water, put it on the stump, and anticipated that it would soon begin to boil. But in vain. The king now understood plainly that he had been fooled. Angry, he started off again to visit the man, and avenge himself for the prank he had played on him.

When he had come a distance on the way, he heard a man who cursed terribly, and cared not about the king’s presence. The king turned aside and admonished the man; but he, on account of the king’s admonishment, grew all the more angry. He pulled out a long knife from his belt and stabbed first his mother and then his sister, and these fell as dead to the earth, the blood streaming freely from them both.

When they had lain a while, he went to them and began to scratch across them both with his knife, and then they began to show signs of life. They were soon both completely quick, and approached the man with great humility and begged forgiveness for their impertinence.

The king wondered greatly at what he had seen, and asked the man how such things could happen.

“Oh,” said the man, “I usually discipline my folk in such a manner, when they are disobedient. Then they are so humble and pliant that I soon have manifold compensation for my trouble.”

The king still did not know that this man was Cabe, who had agreed with his folk to tie bladders of blood beneath their clothes, and who had fooled the king both with the cauldron and the stump. The king longed every day to meet Cabe, and understood that this man’s knife could be useful for something eventually. So, in anticipation of meeting Cabe, the king asked the man if he would sell this wondrous knife.

“Only reluctantly will I part with it,” said Cabe; “but since it is the king who wishes to own it, I will not say no.”

“How much do you want then for this seldom treasure?” asked the king.

“Well, its value,” said Cabe, “cannot be estimated; it is, of course, priceless. But for the king’s sake, I will sell it for three hundred dollars.”

“Well, here you have the money!” said the king; and he took the knife and went home happy, to try its power on his disobedient household. First they should be punished; and then, soon afterwards, even Cabe might learn some respect.

As soon as he came home, the queen began to scold him in the most dreadful manner, and as she could not defend herself against his mockery, one of his two sons came forward to help his mother, and defend her from the king’s rage. But, even more bitter, on account of his son’s behaviour, the king pulled out his newly purchased knife, and put it first in his son, and then in the queen. Both soon fell dead to the ground. The king’s servants fled in terror, but by his command, they had to return.

After a little while, the king began to scratch along and across the dead, to recall them to life. But all was in vain; they were and remained dead.

The king now understood that it must have been Cabe who had played him all these pranks, and in his grief and wrath, he swore that Cabe would hang. He went now again to visit Cabe, and this time, he found him, too.

Cabe was taken to the king’s farm and held there until the following day, so that as many people as possible should have time to gather together and watch his sticky end.

In the evening, he asked the king if he would not grant him the grace to go visit his old mother a final time before he ended his days. The king granted his wish, and allowed him to go once more home to his mother. But he was accompanied by a numerous and strong company that had the strictest orders not to let Cabe out of their sight.

So he came home to his mother, to bid her farewell. But on the return journey, he said to his guards, as they approached an old mill, where Cabe knew there was always an old man watching the mill: “I have two things to ask, and I am certain you will grant me my wishes. The first is that you allow me to go by myself into the mill, for there to hold my devotion and prepare for my death. And the second is that you thereafter never disturb me with unnecessary questions or conversations. In the mill I shall wear a blindfold so that nothing may divert my thoughts from the confession I shall make in the coming hour.”

With his guards’ permission Cabe now went into the mill and closed the door behind him. Thereafter he went to the old miller, assumed a serious demeanour, and said:

“To heaven and to paradise I will not go.”

“Oh, then you are a fool!”

“Yes. Come and take my place,” said Cabe.

“With all my heart,” replied the old man.

Then Cabe said: “We must swap clothes, and then you must not speak a single word when you come out of the mill.”

“And why so?” asked the old man.

“Well, it is only on these conditions you can come to paradise,” replied Cabe.

“Well then, the mill shall cease its chatter before I cease my silence,” said the man.

They swapped clothes, and Cabe bound a kerchief before his eyes and let him go out.

Cabe’s guards took the old miller now, and brought him with them; and when dawn broke at the king’s farm, they quickly strung him up; and thus he ended his days without having spoken or made a sound.

Now the king held a great feast for all his friends, and rejoiced with them because Cabe had finally been rewarded justly for his misdeeds.

In the meantime, Cabe stole the hanged man and buried him.

“Look, look!” said the king, when he heard of this. “Even a Cabe has his friends!”

He would rather not have Cabe’s friends as his enemies, and he decided, therefore, to do good for Cabe’s kinfolk. So he sent Cabe’s old mother a large sum of money. His sister he would have in service, but she would not go to him immediately. She needed some time, she said, to arrange her clothes. When this was done, she would soon come.

In the meantime, Cabe dressed in his sister’s clothes and went to the king. The presumed girl was welcomed kindly, and told to go into service as a maid for the princesses. She excelled quickly, with her efficiency and order, and that to the degree that the king recommended that his daughters follow her example and advice in everything. Therefore, during the days, they were always with their new tutor, and at night they slept in the same chamber.

One evening, when they had gone to bed, one of the princesses said: “I don’t know what to do; for I often dream of men.”

“Well,” said Cabe, “if any of us dreams of men tonight, then we will move two and two into the same bed. Then we shall see if we cannot be delivered from such dreams.”

No sooner had they fallen asleep than the eldest princess awoke and shouted: “Ack! I have just dreamed of men!”

Cabe went therefore to her and slept with her that night. The next night the youngest dreamed of men, and Cabe had to sacrifice that night on her. And thus it continued, night after night, for some time.

Then it happened that the king’s son fell in mortal love with the new mistress of the house, and he decided that he would have her, by any means. He proposed and received a yes. But he had to promise not to make any attempt on her until after the wedding. The king’s son hurried therefore, to arrange the wedding.

Many guests were invited, and the wedding began. Everyone was happy, and the distinguished guests began to bring forth their costly wedding gifts. When most of the guests had laid into the bowl what they wished, Cabe arose and asked the prince for permission to go out on a necessary errand.

“Oh, I do so want to piss,” he whispered to his bridegroom.

“Oh, do be quiet and stay a little,” said the prince.

“Ow! Now I want to piss and shit,” said Cabe. And with that, he put the finest and most precious of the gifts that had been laid on the table down in his clothes, stood up and hurried out. The guests were not a little astounded at such peculiar behaviour; but they remained seated in the hope that the presumed princess would soon come in again. They waited and they waited, but in vain. Then they began to search thoroughly and in every direction, but they did not find the princess. The prince was so sorrowful with grief at this that he went and hanged himself.

This accident, as might be expected, bitterly affected the king. And when he understood the condition that both of his daughters were in, he grew desperate in his grief. He began to believe that Cabe was still alive, and that it must be he who was the origin also of this, his grief and humiliation.

He pondered for a long time what he should do with Cabe. Finally, he came to the conclusion that it did no good to oppose Cabe with evil. He decided therefore to win Cabe over with good, and thus transform him from his worst and most dangerous enemy to his best and most useful friend.

To this end, he proclaimed everywhere that if Cabe would voluntarily come before him, he would not only forgive him all his terrible pranks, but in regard to the great kindness and skill he had shown, he would reward him as honestly and regally as possible. He would, he said, give him one of his daughters and half his kingdom while he himself lived, and the whole kingdom when his days were over. “For,” he said, “the one who is wise in one thing is probably also wise in another. And if Cabe understands how to rule my kingdom as well as he has understood to pull my nose, then my daughter can wish for no better husband, and my kingdom for no better king.”

Cabe came and received the royal offer. He married the king’s eldest daughter, and received at once half the kingdom. When the king a short time later died, he was proclaimed king of the whole realm. The wisdom that before had distinguished Cabe followed him on to the throne, and caused him to be as loved by his subjects as he was feared by his enemies, whom he was always able to deceive. Cabe reigned always well, and lived a long time. And if he be not dead, then yet he lives. But on which of the world’s thrones he rules, of that the story dare not tell.

The Soldier Who Went with a Complaint to the King

Once upon a time, there was a soldier who would complain to the king about how their company suffered.

“No, you must by no means do that,” said the others to him. “You must not go to the king with such; for they are killed who do so.”

“That makes no difference,” said the soldier; “they see themselves how we fare. There must be an answer.”

And with that, off he went. But then, he got lost in a great forest, and he wondered around it until he came to a cave of robbers. When they saw this fellow, they began to sharpen their knives, and said that they would make an end of him. Just like that, there came another fellow, who also was lost, and it was the king himself. But he was dressed like any other man, so that they knew him not. Then they grew more eager in their sharpening, for they would have the king, too.

Then the soldier said: “it would be good to make some sport this evening.”

Yes, they thought so, too.

“Do you have any pitch?” the soldier asked.

Yes, they had pitch.

“Well, put a cauldron of pitch on,” said the soldier, “and I shall make some sport. But I don’t suppose you have an iron ladle.”

Yes, he got one of those, too.

Then the king would go to watch.

“What the devil do you want?” said the soldier. “Haven’t you seen this many times?” And with that, he struck the king beneath his ear so that he retreated to a corner. He did this twice more, and so the king had to stay in his corner.

But the robbers crowded around the soldier, and would see his sport. So he dipped the iron ladle, and cast boiling pitch into their eyes; and thus he killed them, every one. Then there was just him and the king and a girl left, whom the robbers had taken to look after them. Then the soldier went and found a cask of brandy, and then he poured himself a dram, and the king a dram. Then he took the girl, threw her on the bed, and crawled on to her. When he was finished, he wanted the king to do the same, but he would not.

“So pour me a dram, and I will have another turn,” he said. And then he chased the girl away. “Now you can go to your home,” he said.

And then he burned the whole place up.

Then the king asked him where he was going. Well, he was going to the king with a complaint. He was a soldier, he said. “But where are you from, then?” he asked.

Well, the king mentioned a place, too, but said nothing about being the king. With that, he mounted his horse and rode on ahead, for now, in the light of day, he knew where he was.

Then he said, when he had come home, that they should make up a room for the soldier who would come after. And they should lay forth food for him, but neither spoon nor knife, and then they should tell him he would be killed.

So when the soldier arrived, they said to him: “What do you want here, then?”

“Oh yes, I am a soldier, and I have a complaint for the king.”

“Oh you poor thing,” they said. “You will be killed; they mostly are who come here with such.”

“That cannot be helped,” said the soldier. “Right must be right, and that’s an end to it.” With that, he sat down to eat; but when he found no spoon or knife, he broke off some bread, hollowed it out with his fingers, and slurped his soup with that. This the king had stood watching from behind a pane of glass in the door. Then they said to him: “Now the king has said that you shall die in three days; for you came here with such. So now you are finished.”

Then he saw the king in the courtyard, but he did not recognise him, for the king wore his regalia. But when the three days had passed, then the king revealed himself to him, and said that for wages he would have his daughter and half the kingdom. He made his complaint, too.

Note:

This tale is perhaps proof that not everything old is worth publishing. The story structure is very poor—as if the informant was not quite sure what he was doing. Worse, however, is the wholly gratuitous rape half way through. It serves absolutely no narrative purpose. Consequently, this the only tale so far that I have considered omitting from the collection.

The Boy Who Sold the Bucks

There was a boy who should go into town and sell a buck. But it was far to the town, and so he spent a night in some place where there was only a girl at home.

The girl asked him if he wouldn’t rather sell the buck to her.

Yes, if he were allowed to “take her,” then she could have the buck.

No he could not do that.

Then they argued a while about it. In the end, they agreed that he would be allowed to see her as far up as the top of her socks, and then the buck would be hers.

The next day, the boy returned home. His father asked if he had sold the buck.

Yes, he had, but he had not got the money yet; he would have it tomorrow.

The next day, he said he would be off to collect the money. But then he arranged to take another buck with him. This one he would sell, he thought.

In the evening, he came in to the same girl. She asked now, too, if he would sell the buck to her.

No, sell it he would not; but if he were allowed to “take her,” then she could have the buck.

They argued a while about this, and finally agreed that if the boy could see her pussy, then she would have the buck.

The next day, the boy returned home. Then his father asked if he had the money for the buck.

No, he had not got it; but tomorrow, he would go and get it.

The next day, he went to get the money, but now too, he arranged to take another buck with him. This one he would sell, he thought.

But now too, he came no further than to the same girl.

This time his father had stolen along after him, for he had noticed that the bucks were gone. When the boy went in to the girl, his father climbed on to the roof.

Now, too, the girl asked if he would sell her the buck.

No, he would not; but if he could “take her,” then she could have the buck.

No, he could not, but they spoke at length about it, and finally he would be allowed to stick the tip of his member in her pussy.

“Oh, just press it all the way in!” said the girl, when she felt how it was.

No, the boy would not.

Yes, if he would do it, he could have all three bucks back again.

Still the boy pretended that he would not.

“Just do it! Just do it!” shouted his father. He lay, watching down the chimney.

The Pig Boy

Once upon a time, there was a woman who had some pigs to sell, and so her son should take them out. So he took one pig, and went with it to the king’s farm.

Then the queen came out.

“What do you want for it?” she asked.

“Oh, I don’t want much for it,” said the boy. “If I may see the king’s daughter to her knees, you shall have it,” he said.

“What use would you have of that?” asked the queen, reluctantly.

Oh, it would be of no use to him, he said; but that did not matter. If he got it, she would have the pig.

Well, he got it, then.

Then the woman was so mad at him that it was a spectacle, for he had not taken payment for the pig.

So on the next day, he took the second pig, and went to the king’s farm with it. Things went the same way as they had on the first day. The queen came out and asked him what he would have for the pig. Well, said the boy, if he could see the king’s daughter up to her thighs, then she would have the pig. The queen said, now as before, that she did not understand what use that would be for him, but he got his will in the end, and the queen got the pig.

His mother was no happier when he came home this time. But on the third day, the boy took with him the third pig, and went to the king’s farm with it. Things went the same way as they had the first two times; but now he wanted to see the king’s daughter to her navel as payment.

When he came home for the third time without payment for the pig, the woman was so mad that she chased him away. She had no more pigs.

So he went to the coutyard of the king’s farm, and said: “I know something,” he said. “I know something, me.”

“Quiet! If you will be quiet, you shall have as much money as you want,” said the queen, and gave him a sack of money.

Then the boy went home to his mother and said: “Here is payment for the first pig, mother,” said the boy.

The same thing happened on the second and the third days.

Then there should be a great feast at the king’s farm. The king’s daughter should be married, and the one who could tell what kind of cunny hairs she had should have her. But no one could.

“Well, here is no one left,” said the king, “except this boy, and I don’t suppose he knows anything. But he may try, too.”

“Well,” said the boy, “the king’s daughter has one cunny hair of silver, one of gold, and one of bronze.”

“How can you know that?” said the king.

“Oh, I do know it,” said the boy.

But then he could not have her anyway. Both he and a knight should lie together with the king’s daughter that night. And the one she had turned towards in the morning should have her.

So in the evening, the king locked them in. As the night drew on, the boy said: “Ow! I need to shit so much that I don’t know what to do. I think I shall have to shit on the table.”

So he got up and cut a honey cake into a big pile on the table.

A little while later, the knight also had a call of nature. And it was not feigned, either.

“Well, I don’t know what else you can do except that you do it on the other end of the table. Otherwise, there will be a huge pile,” said the boy.

So that is what the knight did.

Then they lay a while more. Then the boy began to quake, and then he said: “Oh, I had a terrible dream. I dreamt that the king came in and would kill us because we have shit on his table. I don’t know what to do except that we each eat up our pile.”

And with that, he got up and ate up his honey cake. Then the knight went and put in him that which he had laid on the table. But then he smelled so bad that the king’s daughter had to turn towards the pig boy.

So in the morning, the king came in: “But what are you doing?” he said. “Have you not turned towards the knight, then?”

“No, I could by no means endure that,” she said; “he just smells of shit.”

So there was a great feast for four fortnights, and for two shorter days, and for one very short day. And if they have not finished, then they are still at it.

The Princess’s Riddle

Once upon a time there was a king who had a daughter who had three gilded cunny hairs. This king’s daughter had many suitors, but the king would not give her away to anyone before they had guessed what she had. Out in the forest close by the king’s farm lived an old wife, and she had a son. The king had arranged a meeting for the suitors, so that the one who was best at guessing what the king’s daughter was created with should have her.

The old wife out in the forest had three little pigs. One day she said to her son that he should take one of the pigs to the king’s farm, and try to sell it, for she thought that they might need it at the meeting of the suitors. The boy went to the king’s farm with the pig. He met the princess outside.

“Will you buy a pig from me, princess?” asked the boy.

“What do you want for it?” said the princess.

“Will you lift your skirts so far up that I can see your calves?”

“Yes, you may have that,” said the princess, and then she lifted her skirts, and the boy was satisfied.

When the boy came home with no money, his mother was very angry. But the boy said that he would do better another time.

The next day, the boy should go to the king’s farm to sell the second pig. When he came to the king’s farm, he met the princess outside.

“Will you buy a pig today?” asked the boy.

“What do you want for it?” asked the princess.

“Oh, if you will lift your skirts above your knees, then you shall have it,” said the boy.

The king’s daughter did so, and the boy was satisfied.

When he came home and told his mother how things had gone that day, she was angrier than the day before. But the boy promised that he would do better another time.

On the third day, the boy should take out the pig she had left. When he came to the king’s farm, he met the princess outside.

“Will you buy a pig today?” asked the boy.

“What do you want for it?” asked the princess.

“Oh, if you will lift your skirts up to your belly, then you can have this one, too,” said the boy.

“That is high up,” said the princess; “but will you come with me out back?”

“Yes, I will,” said the boy, following her.

The king‘s daughter lifted her skirts, and the boy saw the three hairs.

The day came, and the suitors met at the king’s farm; and the king took them into the great hall. The boy from the forest also met up, and he asked the king if he might come in, to listen.

“No, you may not,” said the king.

“I can stand in the hearth, if I may.”

“Well so be it, then,” said the king; and the boy came in.

Then the suitors began to guess; and they guessed and they guessed.

And then a minister guessed that the king’s daughter had three hidden things.

“She has three gilded cunny hairs,” said the boy in the hearth; he dared not hold his tongue any longer, for he felt they would guess it.

Then the king grew exceedingly angry, and asked the boy how he could know that.

“Well, I know it as surely as I know that the king has today eaten three pigs,” replied the boy.

“Yes,” said the king, “then my daughter shall lie between the boy and the minister, and the one she has turned towards in the morning shall have her.”

When the night drew on, the boy said: “I need to get up and shit. But how shall I do it when the door is locked?”

“Oh, you can do it in the hearth,” said the princess; “you are a pig anyway.”

“Well, it has to come out, what went in, even though you be a princess,” said the boy.

So he got up and went over to the hearth. There had he a bag of all kinds of fragrant things that he anointed himself with. Then he lay down again beside the princess.

A little while afterwards, the minister said: “I also have a call of nature; I think I have to get up,” he said.

“Yes, do so; you can do it in the hearth, for we can blame the boy,” said the princess.

So the minister got up and relieved himself in the hearth, and then he went back to bed.

But then the boy said: “Since you will give me the blame, then I will up and eat what I have done,” said the boy. And then he got up, went over to the hearth, and anointed himself with all these fragrant ointments; and then he went back to bed.

But then the minister lay there, thinking; and then he said to the princess: “Now that the boy has eaten his, I think I must do the same, for we cannot blame him now.” And then he got up and began to eat, and then he lay down again, beside the princess. But then he stank like a whole latrine, and then they slept. But the princess had to turn towards the boy, and she lay and licked around his mouth in her sleep.

And when the king crept in, in the morning, and saw that she lay turned towards the boy, he said: “Now you shall have my daughter and half my land and kingdom.”

So they held a wedding for eight days; and I was there for six, but then I had to come here and tell of this courtship.

The Boy Who Herded Hares

Once upon a time, there was a boy who served at the king’s, and he herded hares. There was one time he should travel home. When he was on the road, he met an old woman who asked if she might have some food from him.

“Yes. I have but little food, but what I have you shall have,” said the boy.

So the woman had the food, and ate it all up. Then the woman said:

“Well, since you were so kind that you gave me your food, you shall have a pipe from me. When you blow it in the evening, all the hares will come to you.”

Well, the boy thanked her, and travelled to the king’s farm, and he herded hares. During the day, he sat on a mound; and in the evening, he blew the pipe. Then all the hares came home in the evening. And they were astounded. But they soon knew that the boy had a pipe that he blew. And the king’s maid went to the boy, and would have the pipe from him.

“Yes, but I must lie with you,” said the boy.

So he was allowed.

“And now, I must have it,” said the girl.

“Yes, now you may lie with me, as I lay with you.”

She did so.

“So now we are quits,” said the boy. And she went on her way, full of shame.

Then came the king’s daughter. Things went the same way with her: he lay with her, and she with him. Then he said that they were quits, and then she left.

Then the queen herself came. And things went exactly the same way now: he lay with her, and she with him. Then he said: “Now we are quits.” She was terribly full of shame, and left.

Then the boy told this to the king: “I should have your daughter!”

“Yes, if you can sing this vessel full, then you shall have her”

Well, this was not the agreement, said the boy, but he began to sing thus:

And the king sent his maid to me,
And I lay with her,
And she lay with me,
But still I kept my pipe.

And the king sent his daughter to me,
And I lay with her,
And she lay with me,
But still I kept my pipe.

And the king sent his queen to me,
And I lay …

“Halt! Halt! Now it is running over,” said the king.

And the boy won the daughter of the king, and they feasted, and that greatly.

I too was at the feast. And I should help with the baking. I was so terribly stubborn, you know. Then I was supposed to go up on the cabin with a sack of peas. As I came up the stairs, the bottom fell out of the sack, and all the peas ran all over the floor. Then I should have some bread and butter. Then they called that I should fetch a pail of water. Then I laid my food on the stove, and when I came in again, it had nearly all burned up. The butter ran, and the bread burned, and I had not a crumb. So I wanted a little more, but I didn’t get any. Then they grew so mean to me that they loaded me into their gun. Then they shot me over to the lingonberry cart. And if you won’t believe it, then you don’t have to.

Scruff

Once upon a time, there was a man who was very stubborn, and he would grant no one houseroom. And there was a vagabond called Scruff, and he said that he would go to this man on Christmas Eve, and be given houseroom.

“Oh, you are insane, you are! You know that he never grants anyone houseroom, and especially not on Christmas Eve,” said folk to him.

But Scruff would go anyway. So he took his horse and travelled to the man. He knocked at the door and the maid came out.

“I wanted to ask for houseroom tonight,” said Scruff. “Is the man home?”

“It does no good at all,” she said; “he never grants anyone houseroom, and certainly not on Christmas Eve.”

But he continued to insist, and pretended not to hear what she said. Finally the girl went in again, and the boy came out to try to make Scruff understand that there was no houseroom for him, there on the farm. But Scruff continued to insist. And when it did not help that the wife went out, the man himself went out to Scruff.

“I want to ask for houseroom tonight,” said Scruff.

“I don’t give houseroom,” said the man, “and certainly not on Christmas Eve.”

“Oh, many thanks and honour,” said Scruff. “Where shall I leave my horse?”

“I don’t give houseroom, I say,” said the man.

“Oh, many thanks and honour. Yes, it will be good enough to leave him under the barn bridge.”

Then he came in, and said thanks and honour for all things. Then they decided that they would cook porridge, and that they should ladle the sour-cream porridge on to one side of the bowl, and pig porridge on the other side, where Scruff sat.

As thought, so done.

“Oh, many thanks and honour,” said Scruff, as he sat down at the table. “Well, my father was a skipper,” he said, “but he did not turn his boat as quickly as I can turn this bowl.” And with that, he turned the bowl so that the pig porridge came directly before the man, who could not eat a thing.

Then they should go to bed. Scruff should sleep in the sheepfold.

“Oh, many thanks and honour; that is good enough,” said Scruff.

When the man had gone in again, he took his horse and placed it in the stable, and the man’s horse and left it under the barn bridge. And then he crept into the cabin again; he did not really want to stay in the sheepfold.

And the man was very hungry, so his wife went for some sour cream, some sweet milk, and some wheat flour, and baked a cake for him. Skruff, crouching down, crept in and took the cake. When it was baked, the wife had placed it on the table. In its stead, Scruff shit on the table.

Then the man groaned, and said he was hungry.

“Well, you can take the cake that is on the table,” she said.

Well, he was about to eat: “This cake is raw!” he said.

“No, it cannot be raw,” said the wife, “as long as I let it bake. But follow me to the pantry, and you shall have something else,” she said.

But the man had enough to do with what he was eating that he did not hear his wife. So Scruff crept out after her. And then he had some food; and then they went to bed and looked after one another. Then Scruff crept out.

But then the man groaned and said he was hungry.

His wife said from the cabin said: “I know you cannot be hungry now, so much you have had. And then you lay with me, too,” she said.

“Oh, now that Scruff has been there, too!” said the man. He understood how things had gone, for he had seen Scruff in the cabin. With that, he took an axe, went out under the barn bridge, and chopped the head off the horse that stood there.

In the morning, they saw that Scruff had left, and that the man had chopped the head off his own horse. But from then on, the man was kind, and granted houseroom to anyone.

The Boy and the Parson

Once upon a time, there was a boy who came to a man to ask to go into service. This man had lazy servants; they would do nothing. So he chased them away, and took this boy on instead. And he was so accomplished that it was satisfying.

Now, the wife was fooling around with the parson, and so she had cooked some sour-cream porridge for him, while her husband and the boy were down in the field. But then the boy wanted to go up and see what the woman was so busy with. And she had hidden the parson in a sack of rye sheaves.

When the man also came up, the boy said:

“I do believe the barn roof is sinking.”

“Then you should go and take a look,” said the man.

So the boy went out to thresh. And he took the sack of rye that the parson lay in, and beat him almost to death. The parson pleaded for himself, and promised him ten barrels of rye, if he did not say anything.

Yes, the man thought this boy was very accomplished, who could thresh so much rye that it was satisfying.

Then they should go to bed. And the boy would lie on the edge, on the outside. “I have such terrible nose bleeds,” he said. So the man lay in the middle, and his wife lay closest to the wall.

Then the parson came, and wanted in to the wife. But the boy had his knife ready, and he sliced the parson’s cock off, so his blood sprayed across the floor.

The parson hurried home.

The man soon heard that the parson lay ill. And they were such good neighbours, the parson and the man, so he said to his wife:

“You should cook him some sour-cream porridge, and take it to the parson.”

So the wife did so. And the boy wanted to go with her.

“It is so heavy, the porridge,” he said. “I shall help you.”

When they came to the parsonage, the boy said:

“Wait a little; allow me to adjust your clothes.” And with that, he hung the parson’s cock by a fishing hook, on her clothes. So when the woman came in to the parson, and he saw this, he thought that she had cut off his cock. And he was so angry that he chased her out, with the porridge.

When the woman came home, and took off her clothes, she also saw it. And she was so angry that she chased the boy out.

And that is all there is.

The Boy Who Served the King for Three Years for Three Shillings

There was a boy who served the king for three years for three shillings. When the three years were over, the boy got three shillings; and with them, he skipped off, as happy as a wagtail in the spring. Soon the boy met an old pauper, who asked him why he was so happy.

“Oh, I have served the king for three years for three shillings,” answered the boy.

“If you have as much as three shillings, you can give me one of them,” said the pauper.

“I believe I can,” said the boy. So the pauper got a shilling.

The boy skipped and ran on his way, and soon he met an old pauper again.

“What is it you are so happy about, then?” asked the pauper.

“Oh, I have served the king for three years for three shillings,” said the boy.

“If you have as much as three shillings, you can give me one of them,” said the pauper. So the boy gave the pauper the shilling, and skipped off again, just as happy as before. Soon the boy met an old pauper again, who asked what it was he was so happy about.

“Oh, I have served the king for three years, for three shillings,” said the boy.

“You can let me have one, and then you can wish for three things,” said the pauper.

So the pauper got the shilling, and the boy wished for three things: first God’s grace and friendship, then a money pouch that would never be empty, and then he wished that every cunt could speak.

Now that the boy had his money pouch that was never empty, he dressed himself like the most prominent gentleman, and travelled to a princess, to propose. The boy looked so fine and proper, and the princess liked him well enough. At night, the boy and the princess were each to lie in their own chamber, but these chambers were so close that there was but a door between them. During the night, the boy got up and went in to the princess, lifted her eiderdown, and asked if she were a maiden.

“A whore of seven children,” she answered (it appears that her cunt spoke here, as the boy had wanted). When the boy heard this, he did not want the princess, but went on his way.

The boy travelled then to a king’s daughter, and would propose. That night, he and the king’s daughter should each lie in their own chamber, but the chambers were so close that there was but a door between them. During the night, the boy got up out of bed and went in to the king’s daughter, lifted her eiderdown, and asked if she were a maiden.

“A whore of five children,” she (the cunt) said. When the boy heard this, he would not have her either, but travelled again.

When the princess and the king’s daughter understood that the boy had fooled them into talking, they were so angry that they brought him before the Thing. Before the princess went to the Thing, she stuffed some moss in her cunt. When the boy arrived at the Thing, he went straight over to the princess, lifted her skirt, and asked how many children she had had.

“Seven, even though they stuck some moss in me,” she (meaning the cunt) said. With that, the matter was decided; and the boy was let off.

Then the boy came to some respectable folk, and there was a fine maid there. The boy proposed to the maid, and won her. And they held a feast and lived well and good, for you know, the boy had a money pouch that was never empty.

Askeladden

There was a princess who was always so haughty, and he who would win her should make her laugh. And this she was allowed by her father. Many tried, but none of them was successful.

So you understand that Askeladden also had to have a go.

He walked and reflected on how he should do it, and then he came to a forest where there lived a wife who had a little magpie.

“What is it that you are reflecting on?” asked the wife.

“Oh, I do so want the princess. If only I could make her laugh,” said Askeladden.

“There must be a way,” said the wife. “I have a golden magpie that is so pretty that everyone would like to have a feather from it. And then you should say, ‘Hold fast, like the old wife taught me!’”

And he was given a ribbon to lead it by. There the magpie went must also all those who held on to it follow.

Then there came a fine girl walking. She cared not for the boy, but she wanted the magpie.

“You have a nice magpie, there,” she said.

“Yes, isn’t it nice?” said the boy. “Do you want a feather?”

“Yes,” said the girl, and she went over to the magpie.

“Hold fast, like the old wife taught me!” said the boy, and thus she was stuck fast.

Askeladden led the magpie onwards, and the girl came along behind.

Just like that, there came a knight, riding. He thought it was strange, but of course, he wanted to help the girl, so he dismounted and went over to her.

“Hold fast, like the old wife taught me!” said the boy, and thus he was also stuck fast. One hand held on to the girl, and the other hand held on to the horse; and he was all but naked, for the girl was so unreasonably gorgeous that he had already taken off his trousers. He had, of course, no idea that he would be stuck fast like this.

When they neared the castle, they met a kitchen girl who was on her way out to get a sausage. When she saw the knight nearly naked, she thought he had stolen the sausage, and she went to take it from between his legs, and so she was stuck fast to his member, for the boy had said, “Hold fast, like the old wife taught me!”

Then another kitchen girl came out with a wooden spoon, and when she saw the kitchen girl with the sausage, she was so angry that she wanted to smack her on the bottom.

“Hold fast, like the old wife taught me!” said the boy, and so she was stuck, too. She began to scream and carry on, and then she wanted to get off, for she had a call of nature.

“Hold fast, like the old wife taught me!” said the boy, and so the bucket was stuck to the kitchen girl’s backside.

Now the boy had got what he wanted, and he went up to the castle.

They all came out, and they laughed until it was unpleasant. The princess also came out, and was so astounded that she forgot everything, clapped her hands together, and laughed.

“Yes, now you’re mine,” said the boy; “now you have no excuse.”

So she understood that there must be enchantment involved, and gave in. And then I could no longer keep up.

The Sexton and the Boy on the Parson’s Wife

Once upon a time, there was an old parson who married a young miss. But as the old parson could not satisfy her, she used the sexton and a servant boy. But when these two discovered that they both had the wife, they agreed that whichever of them could take her most in the presence of the parson, he should have her to himself.

The sexton should try his luck first. No sooner said than done. It was late one autumn evening that the sexton came to the parsonage, and went in to the parson. The parson asked if it was the sexton who was out walking so late.

“Yes,” answered the sexton, “but as I went past the window, I thought I saw the parson laying his wife on the sofa. But it could not have been.”

“No, certainly not, no,” said the parson, “but now I want to go out and look,” he said.

But when the parson went out, the sexton took the wife, and laid her on the sofa. When the parson came in again, he said that he thought he saw the sexton laying the wife on the sofa.

“No, certainly not no,” replied the sexton.

“Those windows are going out during the day tomorrow, since they distort so horribly,” said the parson.

So the sexton went to the servants’ cabin, and told the servant boy Hans how well he had done.

Then it was Hans’s turn.

One day, Hans was carrying threshed grain to the barn. And the parson wanted to go for a walk with his wife. Then, just like that, Hans came, carrying a sack of grain.

“He is a strong one, Hans,” said the wife.

“Yes, he is a powerful fellow,” replied the parson.

“Hah! This is nothing,” said Hans. “I could just as well carry the parson, and his wife, too,” he said.

“That I would like to see,” said the parson.

“Then come,” said Hans.

So Hans took an empty sack, and bent over to put it on. And then he put the parson lying with his belly against the sack, and then he put the parson’s wife with her back against the parson’s back, and then he took the wife on the parson’s back. And thus it was that Hans won.

The Farmhand at the Parson's

Once upon a time there was a parson who was so miserly that he would not buy a bed for his farmhand; he had to lie in a bed with the daughter. But therefore, he had to have one who was gelded.

So he went out and should try to find one to go into service, who would be of advantage to him, rather than do some damage. He met many, and all of them would go into service with the parson, so they said yes. But when he then asked if they had anything to come with, you should understand that they did no say no to that. But when they had such, and were not gelded, there would come nothing of it. Then the parson would not have them in his household, he said.

Then there was one who was more sly and cunning. And he put out a rumour that he was supposed to have said that he had nothing. And then he turned aside, turned his clothing inside out, and went back another way. And just like that, he met the parson.

The parson did not recognise him, and asked the boy again if he wanted to go into service with him, and if he was gelded.

“Yes, of course,” said the boy.

“It is very good that I came to you,” said the parson.

He wanted him as his farmhand, and he had to go home with him immediately.

As they were on their way home, the parson asked the boy what his name was. “Oh, I am ashamed of my name,” he said.

“A name shames no one,” said the parson.

“No, so I have heard,” said the boy, “and since father really wants to know, can I tell him. But handsome a name it is not; my name is Cock.”

“No, that is truly not a handsome name,” said the parson. But they need not use it from day to day, he said. They could call him “farm boy.”

When the boy came into the kitchen, the first thing the parson’s wife asked him was his name.

“Oh, I am simply ashamed of my name,” said the boy.

“A name shames no one, is what I have always said. We must know what to call you, when we call you in to dinner.”

“Yes, well handsome a name it is not; but since the parson’s wife really wants to know, then my name is ‘my cunny,’” said the boy.

“Well, you may be right; a handsome name it is not. But we can call you ‘farm boy’ from day to day,” said the wife.

Just like that, the parson’s daughter came in to the kitchen, and wanted to see the new farm hand. And it was hardly strange that she should be curious, since she would be having him as bed mate.

Well, the boy said to her, as he had the others, that he was ashamed of his name, but eventually it came from him that his name was “father crawl on mother.”

They lay now in an upstairs room, these two—the farm hand and the parson’s daughter. And no sooner had they had gone to bed, than that the bed began to creak. The parson lay downstairs and heard this.

“What is going on, my daughter?” he asked.

“Oh, it is just ‘father crawl on mother,’” said the parson’s daughter; and no matter what he asked, and no matter what he said, she had no other answer.

“What nonsense!” said the parson. “Do go up, mother, and see what is going on,” he said.

“It is ‘my cunny’ who is on our daughter,” she said, when she came up into the loft.

“Yes, ‘father crawl on mother’ is scratching my cunny so nicely,” said the parson’s daughter.

“It is quite normal for it to scratch at your age,” said the parson.

“Oh no, father, it is ‘my cunny’ who is on our daughter,” said the parson’s wife.

“I believe I shall be able to stop you,” said the boy. He took the parson’s wife, heaved her on to the bed, and did the same to her that he had been doing with the daughter.

“What is all the noise?” said the parson.

“Oh, ‘my cunny’ scratches so nicely,” said the parson’s wife.

“Aren’t you ashamed, at your age, speaking like that in front of the child?” said the parson.

But it got worse, rather than better, the tumultuous noise, and so the parson had to put on his dressing gown and trousers. But when he came up the stairs, the boy jumped out the window, and was gone.

On Sunday, they went to mass, and were in church, listening to the sermon, both the parson’s wife and the daughter. Just like that, the daughter grew very happy and glad, for she had seen the boy behind the altar.

“Father, ‘father crawl on mother,’ behind the altar!” she cried.

“Hush, hush, my child! You must not speak in that way in this place,” he said, and hushed her.

But she pointed, and when he saw the boy, he grew so wroth that he banged his fist on the pulpit, and shouted:

“Every man, get ‘Cock’ out!”

He meant that they should drag the boy from the church.

The congregation glared sternly at the parson, and wondered what this might mean; but he banged the pulpit again, and screamed it even louder.

So yes, they unbuttoned their trousers and did what they thought he had meant they should do. And then the boy began to laugh.

“Now ‘my cunny’ is laughing!” said the parson’s wife.

“Yes, if she’s not laughing now, then she’ll never laugh,” said the boy.

Such

Once upon a time, there was a man who was on a journey, and his wife was expecting. He could not come home before she had delivered the child, and so he arranged to wet the baby’s head, and did both the brewing and the baking.

While he was away, the parson came to the wife and said, “Oh God help you! Your husband has forgotten to make a nose for the child.”

“Really?” said the wife. “How will things go, then?” she said.

“Oh, if you will give me everything that has been made for wetting the baby’s head, then I am sure I will be able to think of something,” he said.

Yes, he could have it all, and so the parson made a nose for the child.

When the man came home, he asked how things had gone.

“Oh yes,” said his wife, “but you had forgotten to make a nose for the child, you had,” she said.

“Indeed,” said the man, “I had forgotten that.”

“Yes, but the parson came along, and he got everything that had been prepared so that he would make a nose for the child,” she said.

“Well, since he has done it…” said the man.

Soon the parson went on a journey, so the man went to the parsonage while the parson was away. He went into the kitchen.

“Good day,” he said.

“Good day,” said the kitchen maid. “Who on earth are you?” she said.

“Oh, I am a cunny-gilder.”

“Really?” she said. “How much do you want, to gild it?” she asked.

“A hundred,” he said.

Well, he should have it.

“Right, so lie down wide open on the floor,” he said. And then he placed eighteen eggs between her legs, and the nineteenth he stuck into the hole.

“So, what are you called?” she said.

“Oh, I am Such; but now you must lie still, and not move until I return,” he said. And with that, he went in to the parson’s wife’s parlour.

“Good day,” he said.

“Good day,” said the parson’s wife. “Who on earth are you?”

“Oh, I am a cunny-gilder,” said the man.

“Oh, how happy it will make father, when it is gilded,” he said. “How much will you have for it?”

“Two hundred,” said the man.

He knew the parson had a new-born foal, and so he went down to the stable, cut of its head, and stuck it in the hole.

“What are you called?” asked the parson’s wife.

“I am Such, I am; but now you must lie still, and not move until I return,” said the man. And with that, he went home and arranged a leather sack, which he filled with liquid manure. Then he took it out at around the time he thought the parson would return. Then the parson and his driver boy came.

“What is that you are carrying?” said the parson.

“Oh, this is courage, it is,” said the man. “I would not be too long without it.”

“So what is it, then?”

“Oh, I tip it over my head when I am sorrowful,” said the man, “and then I am comforted again.”

“So that is courage,” said the parson. “Will you sell it?” he said.

“Well, I don’t know about that. I only have a little of it. But if you give me three hundred, you shall have it,” said the man.

Yes, that was fine.

When the parson came home, the gate was locked, and those inside dared not move until Such came. So the parson’s boy had to climb over the gate, and he went into the kitchen.

“Have you seen Such?” said the kitchen maid.

“No, I have never seen such; and God help me, I’ll never see it again!” said the boy.

Then he went into the parlour.

“Have you seen Such?” asked the parson’s wife.

“No, I have never seen such; and God help me, I’ll never see it again,” said the boy; and then he went out to the parson.

“How do things stand?” asked the parson.

“Well, this is how things stand,” said the boy. “The kitchen maid is lying wide open on the kitchen floor, and has laid eighteen eggs, and the nineteenth is in the hole. And your wife is lying on the floor in the parlour, and is giving birth to a foal; I could see its head.”

“Oh God help and comfort me,” said the parson; “now I am sorrowful.” And with that, he lifted the sack above his head so that the liquid manure ran down over him. And now the parson goes beshitten every day, unless he has washed himself.

The King’s Sons and the Wishes

Once upon a time, there was a king who had three sons. The elder sons lived in luxury, but the youngest, Oskefisen, had to do the heaviest work: look after the horses, and bring water for them. Then once, when he was fetching water, he got a fish in the bucket.

“Oh, dear heart, release me, and I will grant you what you will,” said the fish.

Well, Oskefisen did so; and he wished that he could make his thing as big or as small as he wanted. Then he told this to his brothers.

“Oh, you great fool! Could you not have found something better to wish for?” they said.

Then the eldest went out for some water, caught the fish, and wished for money. The middle brother did likewise.

Then the two elder brothers went out, to court a king’s daughter who was so used to it. Oskefisen wanted to go, too, and was not allowed. But he followed along anyway.

Then he came to a guesthouse, and asked if he might buy some food.

“Yes,” said the girl, but he had to wait until the fine gentlemen who were inside had been served theirs. So he had some food. Then he made his pole so long that he could circle her waist with it, and asked how much the food would cost.

“Tut! Don’t even mention it,” she said. “But if you will sweep me off my feet and have your way with me, then you shall have it for nothing; and you shall have this tablecloth, besides. It is such that when you unfold it, it fills up with the most expensive dishes.”

So Oskefisen “paid” for the food, and thanked her for the tablecloth.

Things went the same way at the next guesthouse. There he got a cockerel-formed beer jug that was such that it was never empty, for his services. And also at the third guesthouse, the girl wanted the same payment for the food. She gave him a pair of scissors, too, that were such that when one snipped with them, out came the finest clothing.

Then they arrived king’s daughter’s. His brothers laughed at him, and advised against his trying for her hand: “She will only put you on the rejects’ island.”

And she did, too.

Out there, he fed everyone who had already arrived, from his table cloth. So when they came with food for them on the next day, no one wanted it. The servants went over to the king’s farm and told this.

“It must be the one we sent over last,” said the princess.

“No, no, not him. It must be one of the others,” said his brothers.

But they brought him, and asked him. Yes, he showed them the tablecloth. The king’s daughter would buy the tablecloth. But no, it was not for sale; but if he could lie with her atop the bearskin, then she could have it.

No, he could not, but he could be released and never go back to the island.

No, that was no good; Oskefisen would not concede. If she was afraid, then she could have her guards in the room.

So that is how it happened; and Oskefisen lay cooing all night. And the next day, he was put back on the island.

Things went the same way with the beer cockerel. But then he wanted to lie with her beneath the bearskin. And when she wanted to buy the scissors, the price was that he should lie between her legs.

No, that would certainly not happen.

Well, it was not dangerous. He had nothing to do any damage with. He showed her his thing, and the doctors said that he could do nothing.

So yes, then he would be allowed.

Just as he lay, he made it big and pressed it in. But he lay cooing so quietly again. And it tickled, don’t you know.

“Oh, draw a stroke,” she said.

And he did.

“Oh, draw a stroke,” she said again.

No, he would not.

“Oh, draw a stroke,” she said a third time; but he would not.

“Well, now you have stood there for two night,” she said to her guards. “You must be by weary now; it is best you go and get some sleep. You know he has nothing to do any damage with, anyway.”

So they left, and were happy to go.

“Oh, draw a stroke,” she said when they were alone.

Yes, now Oskefisen was willing.

“And one more.”

No, he would not.

“Oh, one more stroke,” she begged.

But no, he would not. It made no difference how much she begged.

“Well, it is all the same,” she said. “If you will have your way with me, then you shall have me and the kingdom and everything I have.”

Yes, now he did what she asked of him, and that is how Oskefisen won the king’s daughter.