Check all the Clans that have DNA Projects. If your Clan is not in the list there's a way for it to be listed.
Glenora Single Malt Whisky

Electric Scotland's Classified Directory An amazing collection of unique holiday cottages, castles and apartments, all over Scotland in truly amazing locations.
Scottish Review

Click here to get a Printer Friendly Page

Scottish Fairy and Folk Tales
Nursery Stories


THE STORY OF THE WHITE PET

There wap a farmer before now who had a White Pet, and when Christmas was drawing near, he thought that he would kill the White Pet. The White Pet heard that, and he thought he would run away and that is what he did.

He had not gone far when a bull met him. Said the bull to him, “All hail! White Pet, where art thou going?” “I,” said the White Pet, “am going to seek my fortune; they were going to kill me for Christmas, and I thought I had better run away.” “It is better for me,” said the bull, “to go with thee, for they were going to do the very same with me.”

“I am willing,” said the White Pet; “the larger the party the better the fun.”

They went forward till they fell in with a dog.

“All hail! White Pet,” said the dog. “All hail! that dog.” “Where art thou going?” said the dog.

“I am running away, for I heard that they were threatening to kill me for Christmas.”

“They were going to do the very same to me,” said the dog, “and I will go with you.”

“Come, then,” said the White Pet.

They went then, till a cat joined them. “All hail! White Pet,” said the cat. “All hail! oh cat.”

“Where art thou going?” said the cat. “I am going to seek my fortune,” said the White Pet, “because they were going to kill me at Christmas.”

“They were talking about killing me too,” said the cat, “and I had better go with you.”

“Come on then,” said the White Pet.

Then they went forward till a cock met them. “Ail hail! White Pet,” said the cock. “All hail to thyself! oh cock,” said the White Pet. “Where,” said the cock, “art thou going?” “I,” said the White Pet, “am going away, for they were threatening my death at Christmas.”

“They were going to kill me at the very same time,” said the cock, “and 1 will go with you.”

“Come, then,” said the White Pet.

They went forward till they fell in with a goose. “All hail! White Pet,” said the goose. “All hail to thyself! oh goose,” said the Waite Pet. “Where art thou going?” said the goose.

“I,” said the White Pet, “am running away, because they were going to kill me at Christmas.”

“They were going to do that to me too,” said the goose, “and I will go with you.”

The party went forward till the night was drawing on them, and they saw a little light far away; and, though far off, they were not long getting there. When they reached the house, they said to each other that they would look in at the window to see who was in the house, and they saw thieves counting money; and the White Pet said, “Let every one of us call his own call. I will call my own call; and let the bull call his own call; let the dog call his own call; and the cat her own call; and the cock his own call; and the goose his own call.” With that they gave out one shout—Gaire!

When the thieves heard the shouting that wan without, they thought the mischief was there; and they fled out, and they went to a wood that was near them. When the White Pet ard his company saw that the house was empty, they went in and they got the money that the thieves had been counting, and they divided it amongst themselves; and then they thought that they would settle to rest. Said the White Pet, “Where wilt thou sleep to-night, oh bull?” “I will sleep,” said the bull, “behind the door where I used” (to be). “Where wilt thou sleep thyself, White Pet?” “I will sleep,” said the White Pet, “in the middle of the floor where I used” (to be). “Where wilt thou sleep, oh dog?” said the White Pet. “I will sleep beside the fire where I used” (to be), said the dog. “Where wilt thou sleep, oh cat?” “I will sleep,” said the cat, “in the candle press, where I like to be.” “Where wilt thou sleep, oh cock?” said the White Pet. “I,” said the cock, “will sleep on the rafters where I used” (to be). “Where wilt thou sleep, oh goose?” “I will sleep,” said the goose, “on the midden, where I was accustomed to be.”

They were not long settled to rest, when one of the thieves returned to look in to see if he could perceive if any one at all was in the house. All things were still, and he went on forward to the candle press for a candle, that he might kindle to make him a light; but when he put his hand in the box the cat thrust her claws into his hand, but he took a candle with him, and he tried to light it. Then the dog got up, and he stuck his tail into a pot of water that was beside the fire; he shook his tail and put out the candle. Then the thief thought that the mischief was in the house, and he fled; but when he was passing the White Pet, he gave him a blow; before he got past the bull, he gave him a kick; and the cock began to crow; and when he went out, the goose began to belabour him with his wings about the shanks.

He went to the wood where his comrades were, as fast as was in his legs. They asked him how it had gone with him. “It went,” said he, “but middling; when I went to the candle press, there was a man in it who thrust ten knives into my hand; and when I went to the fireside to light the candle, there was a big black man lying there, who was sprinkling water on it to put it out; and when I tried to go out, there was a big man in the middle of the floor, who gave me a shove; and another man behind the door who pushed me out; and there was a little brat on the loft calling Out CUIR-ANEES-AN-SHAW-AY-S-FONI-MI-HAYN-DA—Send him tip here and I’ll do for him; and there was a shoemaker out on the midden, belabouring me about the shanks with his apron.”

When the thieves heard that, they did not return to seek their lot of money; and the White Pet and his comrades got it to themselves and it kept them peaceably as long as they lived.

THE MILK-WHITE DOO

There was once a man that wrought in the fields, and had a wife, and a son, and a dochter. One day he caught a hare, and took it hame to his wife, and bade her make it ready for his dinner. While it was on the fire, the good-wife aye tasted and tasted at it, till she had tasted it a’ away, and then she didna ken what to do for her goodman’s dinner. So she cried in Johnie her son to come and get his head kaimed; and when she was kaiming his head, she slew him, and put him into the pat. Well, the goodman cam hame to his dinner, and his wife set down Johnie well boiled to him; and when he was eating, he takes up a foot, and says: “That’s surely my Johnie's fit.”

“Sic nonsense! it’s ane o’ the hare’s,” says the goodwife.

Syne he took up a hand, and says: “That’s surely my Johnie’s hand.”

“Ye’re havering, goodman; it’s anither o’ the hare’s feet.”

So when the goodman had eaten his dinner, little Katy, Johnie’s sister, gathered a’ the banes, and put them in below a stane at the cheek o’ the door—

Where they grew, and they grew,
To a milk-white doo,
That took its wings,
And away it flew.

And it flew till it cam to where twa women were washing claes, and it sat down on a stane, and cried—

“Pew, pew,
My minny me slew,
My daddy me chew,
My sister gathered my banes,
And put them between twa milk-white stanes.
And I grew, and I grew,
To a milk-white doo,
And I took to my wings, and away I flew.”

“Say that owre again, my bonny bird, and we’ll gif ye a’ thir claes,” says the women.

“Pew, pew,
My minny me slew,” etc.

And it got the claes, and then flew till it came to a man counting a great heap o’ siller, and it sat down and cried—

Talking nonspnse.

“Pew, pew.
My minny me slew,” etc.

“Say that again, my bonny bird, and I’ll gie ye a’ this siller,” says the man.

“Pew, pew.
My minny me slew,” etc.

And it got a’ the siller; and syne it flew till it cam to twa millers grinding' com, and it cried—

“Pew, pew,
My minny me slew,” etc.

“Say that again, my bonny bird, and I’ll gie ye this millstane,” says the miller.

“Pew, pew,
My minny me slew,” etc.

And it gat the millstane; and syne it flew till it lighted on its father’s house-top. It threw sma’ stanes down the lum, and Katy cam out to see what was the matter; and the doo threw all the claes to her. Syne the father cam out, and the doo’ threw a’ the siller to him. And syne the mother cam out, and the doo threw down the millstane upon her and killed her. And at last it flew away; and the goodman and his docher after that.

Lived happy, and died happy,
And never drank out of a dry cappy.

THE CROODIN DOO.

“Where hae ye been a’ the day,
My bonny wee croodin doo?”
“O 1 hae been at my stepmother’s house;
Make my bed, mammie, now!
Make my bed, mammie, now!”

“Where did ye get your dinner,
My bonny wee croodin doo?”
“I got it in my stepmother’s;
Make my bed, mammie, now, now, now!
Make my bed, mammie, now!”

“What did she gie ye to your dinner,
My bonny wee croodin doo?”
“She ga’e me a little four-footed fish;
Make my bed, mammie, now, now, now!
Make my bed, mammie, now!”

“Where got she the four-footed fish,
My bonny wee croodin doo?”
“She got it down in yon well strand;
O make my bed, mammie, now, now, now!
Make my bed, mammie, now!”

“What did she do wi’ the banes o’t,
My bonny wee croodin doo?”
“She ga’e them to the little dog;
Make my bed, mammie, now, now, now!
Make my bed, mammie, now!”

“O what became o’ the little dog,
My bonny wee croodin doo?”
“O it shot out its feet and died!
O make my bed, mammie, now, now, now!
0 make my bed, mammie, now!”

THE CATTIE SITS IN THE KILN-RING SPINNING.

The Cattie sits in the kiln-ring.
Spinning, spinning;
And by came a little wee mousie,
Pinning, rinning.

“Oh, what’s that you’re spinning, my loewme, Loesome lady?”
“I’m spinning a sark to my young son,”
Said she, said she.

“Weel mot he brook it, my loesome, Loesome lady.”

“Gif he dinna brook it weel, he may brook it ill,”
Said she, said she.

“I soopit my house, my loesome, Loesome lady.”
“’Twas a sign ye didna sit amang dirt then,'"
Said she, said she.

“I fand twall pennies, my winsome, Winsome lady.”

“’Twas a sign ye warna sillerless,”
Said she, said she.

“I gaed to the market, my loesome, Loesome lady.”
“’Twas a sign ye didna sit at hame then,”
Said she, said she.

“I coft a sheepie’s head, my winsome, Winsome lady.”
“’Twas a sign ye warna kitchenless,”
Said she, said she.

“I put it in my pottie to boil, my loesome, Loesome lady.”
“’Twas a sign ye didna eat it raw,”
Said she, said she.

“I put it in my winnuck to cool, my winsome, Winsome lady.”
“'Twas a sign ye didna burn your nhafts then,"
Said she, said she.

“By came a nattic, and ate it a' up, my loesome, Loesome lady.”
“And sae will I you—worrie, worrie—gnash, gnash,”
Said she, said she.

MARRIAGE OF ROBIN REDBREAST WITH THE WREN

THERE was an auld grey Poussie Baudrons, and she gaed awa’ down by a water-side, and There she saw a wee Robin Redbreast happin’ on a brier; and Poussie Baudrons says: "Where’s tu gaun, wee Robin?” And wee Robin says: “I’m gaun awa’ to the king to sing him a sang this guid Yule morning.” And Poussie Baudrons says: “Come, here, wee Robin, and I'll let you see a bonny white ring round MY neck.” But wee Robin says: “Na, na! grey Poussie Baudrons; na, na! Ye worry’t the wee mousie; but ye’se no worry me.” So wee Robin flew awa’ till he came to a fail fauld-dike, and there he saw a grey greedy gled sitting. And grey greedy gled says: “Where’s tu gaun, wee robin?” And wee robin says: “I’m gaun awa’ to the king to sing him a sang this guid Yule morning.” And grey greedy gled says: “Come here, wee Robin, and I’ll let you see a bonny feather in my wing.” But wee Robin says: “Na, na! grey greedy gled; na, na I Ye pookit a’ the wee lintie; but ye’se no pook me.” So wee Robin flew awa’ till he came to the cleuch o’ a craig, and there he saw Slee Tod Lowrie sitting. And slee Tod Lowrie says: “Where’s tu giun, wee Robin?” And wee Robin says: “I’m gaun awa’ to the king to sing him a sang this guid Yule morning.” And slee Tod Lowrie says: “Come here, wee Robin, and I’ll let ye see a bonny spot on the tap o’ my tail.” But wee Robin says: “Na, na! slee Tod Lowrie; na, na! Ye worry’t the wee lammie; but ye’se no worry me.” So wee Robin flew awa’ till he came to a bonny burnside, and there he saw a wee callant sitting. And the wee callant says: “Where’s tu gaun, wee Robin?” And wee Robin says: “I’m gaun awa’ to the king to sing him a sang this guid Yule morning.” And the wee callant says: “Come here, wee Robin, and I’ll gie ye a wheen grand moolins out o’ my pooeh.” But wee Robin says: “Na, na! wee callant; na, na! Ye speldert the gowdspink; but ye’se no spelder me.” So wee Robin flew awa’ till he came to the king, and there he sat on a winnock sole, and sang the king a bonny sang. And the king says to the queen: “Wh.at’ we gie to wee Robin for singing us this bonny sang?” And the queen says to the king: “I think we’ll gie him the wee wren to be his wife.” So wee Robin and the wee wren were married, and the king, and the queen, and a’ the court danced at the waddin’; syne he flew awa’ hame to his ain water-side, and happit on a brier.

THE TEMPTED LADY.

“Noo, lasses, ye should never be owre proud; for ye see there was ance a leddy, and she was aye fond o’ being brawer than other folk; so she gaed awa’ to take a walk ae day, her and her brother: so she met wi’ a gentleman—but it was nae gentleman in reality, but Auld Nick himsel’, who can change himsel’ brawly into a gentleman a’ but the cloven feet; but he keepit them out o’ sight. So he began to make love to the young leddy:—

‘I’ll gie you a pennyworth o’ preens,
That’s aye the way that love begins;
If ye’ll walk with me, leddy, leddy,
If ye’ll walk with me, leddy.’

‘I’ll no hae your pennyworth o’ preens,
That’s no the way that love begins;
And I’ll no walk with you, with you,
And I’ll no walk with you.’

‘O Johnie, O Johnie, what can the matter be,
That I love this leddy, and she love's na me?
And for her sake I must die, must die,
And fur her sake T must die!

‘I’ll gie you a bonny silver box,
With seven silver hinges, and seven silver locks,
If ye’ll walk,’ etc.

‘I’ll no hae your bonny silver box,
With seven silver hinges, and seven silver locks.
And I’ll no walk,’ etc.

‘O Johnie, O Johnie ’ [as in third verse].

‘But I’ll gie you a bonnier silver box,
With seven golden hinges, and seven golden locks, If ye’ll walk,’ etc.

‘I’ll no hae’ [as In fifth verse],

‘O Johnie [as in third verse].

‘I’ll gie you a pair o’ bonny shoon,
The tane made in Sodom, the tother in Rome,
If ye’ll walk,’ etc.

‘I’ll no hae’ [as in fifth verse].

‘0 Johnie’ [as in third verse].

'I’ll gie yon the half o’ Bristol town,
With coaches rolling up and down,
If ye’ll walk,’ etc.

'I’ll no hae ’ [as in fifth verse].
‘O Johnie ’ [as in third verse'].
‘I’ll gie you the hale o’ Bristol town,
With coaches rolling up and down,
If ye’ll walk with mo, leddy, leddy,
If ye’ll walk with me, leddy.’

‘If ye’ll gie me the hale o’ Bristol town.
With coaches rolling up and down,
I will walk with you, with you,
And I will walk with you.”

And aff he flew wi’ her! Noo, lasses, ye see ye maun aye mind that.”

THE FAUSE KNIGHT AND THE WEE BOY.

“O where are ye gaun?”
Quo-- the fause knight upon the road;
“ I’m gaun to the sehule,”
Quo" the wee boy, and still he stude.

“What is that upon your back?”
Quo’ the fause knight upon the road;
“Atweel it is my bukes,”
Quo' the wee boy, and still he stude.

“What’s that ye’ve got in your arm?”
Quo’ the fause knight upon the road;
“Atweel it is my peat,”
Quo’ the wee boy, and still he stude.

“Wha’s aucht thae sheep?”
Quo’ the fause knight upon the road;
“They’re mine and my mother’s,”
Quo’ the wee boy, and still he stude.

“How mony o’ them are mine?”
Quo’ the fause knight upon the road;
“A’ they that hae blue tails,”
Quo’ the wee boy, and still he stude.

“I wiss ye were on yon tree,”
Quo’ the fause knight upon the road;
“And a guid ladder under me,”
Quo’ the wee boy, and still he stude.

“And the ladder for to break,”
Quo’ the fause knight upon the road;
“And you for to fa’ down,”
Quo’ the wee boy, and still he stude.

“I wiss ye were in yon sea,”
Quo’ the fause knight upon the road;
“And a guid bottom under me,”
Quo’ the wee boy, and still he stude.

“And the bottom for to break,”
Quo’ the fause knight upon the road;
And ye to be drowned,”
Quo’ the wee boy, and still he stude.

THE STRANGE VISITOR

A wife was sitting at her reel ae night;
And aye she sat, and aye she reeled, and aye she wished for company.

In came a pair o’ braid braid soles, and sat down at the fireside;
And aye she sat, etc.

In came a pair o’ sma’ sma’ legs, and sat down on the braid braid soles;
And aye she sat, etc.

In came a pair o’ muckle muckle knees, and sat down on the sma1 sma’ legs;
And aye she sat, etc.

In came a pair o’ sma’ sma’ thees, and sat down on the muckle muckle knees;
And aye she sat, etc.

In came a pair o’ rnuckle muckle hips, and sat down on the sma’ sma’ thees;
And aye she sat, etc.

In came a sma’ sma’ waist, and sat down on the muckle muckle hips;
And aye she sat, etc.

In came a pair o’ braid braid shouthers, and sat down on the sma’ sma’ waist;
And aye she sat, etc.

In came a pair o’ sma’ sma’ arms, and sat down on the braid braid shouthers;
And aye she sat, etc.

In came a pair o’ muckle muckle hands, and sat down on the sma’ sma’ arms;
And aye she sat, etc.

In came a sma’ sma’ neck, and oat down on the braia braid shouthers;
And aye she sat, etc.

In came a great big head, and sat down on the ana’ sma’ neck.

“What way hae ye sie braid braid feet?” quo1 the wife.

“Muckle ganging, muekle ganging” (gruffly).

“What way hae ye sic sma’ sma’ legs?”

“Aih-h-h!—late—and wee-e-e—-moul ” (whining)

“What way hae ye sie muckle muckle knees?”

“Muckle praying, muekle praying” (piously).

“What way hae ye sic sma’ sma’ thees?”

“Aih-h-h!—late- -and wee-e-e—moul” (whining)

“What way hae ye sic big big hips?”

“Muckle sitting, muckle sitting” (gruffly).

“What way hae ye sic a sma’ sma' waist?”

“Aih-h-h!—late—and wee-e-e—moul” (whiningly).

“What way hae ye sie braid braid shouthers”

“Wi’ carrying broom, wi’ carrying broom ” (gruffly)

“What way hae ye sic sma’ sma.’ arms?”

“Aih-h-h!—late—and wee-e-e— moul” (whiningly).

“What way hae ye sie muekle muckle hands?”

“Threshing wi’ an iron flail, threshing wi’ an iron flail” (gruffly)

“What way hae ye sie a sma’ sma’ neck?”

“Aih-h-h!—late—and wee-e-e— moul ” (pitifully).

“What way hae ye sie a muekle muekle head?”

“Muckle wit, muekle wit” (keenly).

“What do you come for?”

“Foe You!” (At the top of the voice, with, a wave of the arm and a stamp of the feet.)

RASHIN COATIE

Once, a long time ago, there was a gentleman had two lassies. The oldest was ugly and ill-natured, but the youngest was a bonnie lassie and good; but the ugly one was the favourite with her father and mother. So they ill-used the youngest in every way, and they sent her into the woods to herd cattle, and all the food she got was a little porridge and whey.

Well, amongst the cattle was a red calf, and one day it said to the lassie, “Gee that porridge and whey to the doggie, and come wi’ me.”

So the lassie followed the calf through the wood, and they came to a bonnie hoosie, where there was a nice dinner ready for them; and after they had feasted on everything nice they went back to the herding.

Every day the calf took the lassie away, and feasted her on dainties; and every day she grew bonnier. This disappointed the father and mother and the ugly sister. They expected that the rough usage she was getting would take away her beauty; and they watched and watched until they saw the calf take the lassie away to the feast. So they resolved to Kill the calf; and not only that, but the lassie was to be compelled to kill him with an axe. Her ugly sister was to hold his head, and the lassie who loved him had to give the blow anu kill him.

She could do nothing but greet; but the calf told her not to greet, but to do as he bade her; and his plan was that instead of coming down on his head she was to come down on the lassie’s head who was holding him, and then she was to jump on his back and they would run off. Well, the day came for the calf to be killed, and everything was ready—the ugly lassie holding his head, and the bonnie lassie armed with the axe. So she raised the axe, and came down on the ugly sister’s head; and in the confusion that took place she got on the calf’s back and they ran away. And they ran and better nor ran till they came to a meadow where grew a great lot of rashes; and, as the lassie had not on many clothes, they pu’ed rashes, and made a coatie for her. And they set off again and travelled, and travelled, till they came to the king’s house. They went in, and asked if they wanted a servant. The mistress said she wanted a kitchen lassie, and she would take Rashin-coatie. So Rashin-coatie said she would stop, if they keepit the calf too. They were willing to do that. So the lassie and the calf stoppit in the king’s house, and everybody was well pleased with her; and when Yule came, they said she was to stop at home and make the dinner, while all the rest went to the kirk. After they were away the calf asked if she would like to go. She said she would, but she had do clothes, and she could not leave the dinner. The calf said he would give her clothes, and make the dinner too. He went out, and came back with a grand dress, all silk and satin, and such a nice pair of slippers. The lassie put on the dress, and before she left she said—

“Ilka peat gar anither burn,
An' ilka spit gar anither turn,
An’ ilka pot gar anither play,
Till I come frae the kirk on gude Yule day.”

So she went to the kirk, and nobody kent it was Rashin-coatie. They wondered who the bonnie lady could be; and, as soon as the young prince saw her, he fell in love with her, and resolved he would find out who she was, before she got home; but Rashin-coatie left before the rest, so that she might get home in time to take off her dress, and look after the dinner.

When the prince saw her leaving, he made for the door to stop her; but she jumped past him, and in the hurry lost one of her shoes. The prince kept the shoe, and Rashin-coatie got home all right, and the folk said the dinner was very nice.

Now the prince was resolved to find out who the bonnie lady was, and he sent a servant through all the land with the shoe. Every lady was to try it on, and the prince promised to marry the one it would fit. That servant went to a great many houses, but could not find a lady that the shoe would go on, it was so little and neat. At last he came to a henwife’s house, and her daughter had little feet. At first the shoe would not go on, but she paret her feet, and slippit her toes, until the shoes went on. Now the prince was very angry. He knew it was not the lady that he wanted; but, because he had promised to marry whoever the shoe fitted, he had to keep his promise.

The marriage day came, and, a' they were all riding to the kirk, a little bird flew through the air, and it sang—

“Clippit feet an’ paret taes is on the saidle set;
But bonnie feet an' braw feet sits in the kitchen neuk."

“What’s that, ye say?” said the prince. “Oh,” says the henwife, “would ye. mind what a feel bird says?” But the prince said, “Sing that again, bonnie birdie.” So the bird sings—

“Clippit feet an’ paret taes is on the saidle set;
But bonnie feet an' braw feet sits in the kitchen neuk."

The prince turned his horse and rode home, and went straight to his father’s kitchen, and there sat Rashin-coatie. He kent her at once, she was so bonnie; and when she tried on the shoe it fitted her, and so the prince married Rashin-coatie, and they lived happy, and built a house for the red calf, who had been so kind to her.


Return to Book Index Page

 


This comment system requires you to be logged in through either a Disqus account or an account you already have with Google, Twitter, Facebook or Yahoo. In the event you don't have an account with any of these companies then you can create an account with Disqus. All comments are moderated so they won't display until the moderator has approved your comment.

comments powered by Disqus

Quantcast