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buttercup.
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buttercup.
From Popular Tales from the Norse, by Sir George Webbe Dasent Age Rating 6 to 8.
Once on a time there was an old wife who sat and baked. Now, you must
know that this old wife had a little son, who was so plump and fat,
and so fond of good things, that they called him Buttercup; she had a
dog, too, whose name was Goldtooth, and as she was baking, all at
once Goldtooth began to bark.
'Run out, Buttercup, there's a dear!' said the old wife, 'and see
what Goldtooth is barking at.'
So the boy ran out, and came back crying out:
'Oh, Heaven help us! here comes a great big witch, with her head
under her arm, and a bag at her back.'
'Jump under the kneading-trough and hide yourself', said his mother.
So in came the old hag!
'Good day', said she!
'God bless you!' said Buttercup's mother.
'Isn't your Buttercup at home to-day?' asked the hag.
'No, that he isn't. He's out in the wood with his father, shooting
ptarmigan.'
'Plague take it', said the hag, 'for I had such a nice little silver
knife I wanted to give him.'
'Pip, pip! here I am', said Buttercup under the kneading-trough, and
out he came.
'I'm so old, and stiff in the back', said the hag, 'you must creep
into the bag and fetch it out for yourself.'
But when Buttercup was well into the bag, the hag threw it over her
back and strode off, and when they had gone a good bit of the way,
the old hag got tired, and asked:
'How far is it off to Snoring?'
'Half a mile', answered Buttercup.
So the hag put down the sack on the road, and went aside by herself
into the wood, and lay down to sleep. Meantime Buttercup set to work
and cut a hole in the sack with his knife; then he crept out and put
a great root of a fir-tree into the sack, and ran home to his mother.
When the hag got home and saw what there was in the sack, you may
fancy she was in a fine rage.
Next day the old wife sat and baked again, and her dog began to bark
just as he did the day before.
'Run out, Buttercup, my boy', said she, 'and see what Goldtooth is
barking at.'
'Well, I never!' cried Buttercup, as soon as he got out; 'if there
isn't that ugly old beast coming again with her head under her arm,
and a great sack at her back.'
'Under the kneading-trough with you and hide', said his mother.
'Good day!' said the hag, 'is your Buttercup at home to-day?'
'I'm sorry to say he isn't', said his mother; 'he's out in the wood
with his father, shooting ptarmigan.'
'What a bore', said the hag; 'here I have a beautiful little silver
spoon I want to give him.'
'Pip, pip! here I am', said Buttercup, and crept out.
'I'm so stiff in the back', said the old witch, 'you must creep into
the sack and fetch it out for yourself.'
So when Buttercup was well into the sack, the hag swung it over her
shoulders and set off home as fast as her legs could carry her. But
when they had gone a good bit, she grew weary, and asked:
'How far is it off to Snoring?'
'A mile and a half', answered Buttercup.
So the hag set down the sack, and went aside into the wood to sleep a
bit, but while she slept, Buttercup made a hole in the sack and got
out, and put a great stone into it. Now, when the old witch got home,
she made a great fire on the hearth, and put a big pot on it, and got
everything ready to boil Buttercup; but when she took the sack, and
thought she was going to turn out Buttercup into the pot, down
plumped the stone and made a hole in the bottom of the pot, so that
the water ran out and quenched the fire. Then the old hag was in a
dreadful rage, and said, 'If he makes himself ever so heavy next
time, he shan't take me in again.' The third day everything went just
as it had gone twice before; Goldtooth began to bark, and Buttercup's
mother said to him:
'Do run out and see what our dog is barking at.'
So out he went, but he soon came back crying out:
'Heaven save us! Here comes the old hag again with her head under her
arm, and a sack at her back.'
'Jump under the kneading-trough and hide', said his mother.
'Good day!' said the hag, as she came in at the door; 'is your
Buttercup at home to-day?'
'You're very kind to ask after him', said his mother; 'but he's out
in the wood with his father, shooting ptarmigan.'
'What a bore now', said the old hag; 'here have I got such a
beautiful little silver fork for him.'
'Pip, pip! here I am', said Buttercup, as he came out from under the
kneading-trough.
'I'm so stiff in the back', said the hag, 'you must creep into the
sack and fetch it out for yourself.'
But when Buttercup was well inside the sack, the old hag swung it
across her shoulders, and set off as fast as she could. This time she
did not turn aside to sleep by the way, but went straight home with
Buttercup in the sack, and when she reached her house it was Sunday.
So the old hag said to her daughter:
'Now you must take Buttercup and kill him, and boil him nicely till I
come back, for I'm off to church to bid my guests to dinner.'
So, when all in the house were gone to church the daughter was to
take Buttercup and kill him, but then she didn't know how to set
about it at all.
'Stop a bit', said Buttercup; 'I'll soon show you how to do it; just
lay your head on the chopping-block, and you'll soon see.'
So the poor silly thing laid her head down, and Buttercup took an axe
and chopped her head off, just as if she had been a chicken. Then he
laid her head in the bed, and popped her body into the pot, and
boiled it so nicely; and when he had done that, he climbed up on the
roof, and dragged up with him the fir-tree root and the stone, and
put the one over the door, and the other at the top of the chimney.
So when the household came back from church, and saw the head on the
bed, they thought it was the daughter who lay there asleep; and then
they thought they would just taste the broth.
Good, by my troth!
Buttercup broth,
said the old hag.
Good, by my troth!
Daughter broth,
said Buttercup down the chimney, but no one heeded him. So the old
hag's husband, who was every bit as bad as she, took the spoon to
have a taste.
Good, by my troth!
Buttercup broth,
said he.
Good, by my troth!
Daughter broth,
said Buttercup down the chimney pipe.
Then they all began to wonder who it could be that chattered so, and
ran out to see. But when they came out at the door, Buttercup threw
down on them the fir-tree root and the stone, and broke all their
heads to bits. After that he took all the gold and silver that lay in
the house, and went home to his mother, and became a rich man.
