“I am,” said the tree. “You may depend on it.”
Tom Poker swung his axe. “Then have that! and have that! and have that!” said Tom Poker. “Have that! And now who is strong?” said Tom Poker.
But the tree said never a word; for he’d chopped the tree down.
“Me, seemingly! Strongest of all!” said Tom Poker. And he gave a hop. But he hopped on the ice, and he slipped; and the ice took his breath away from Tom Poker.
Jack and his mother kept hens; and one night, thieves came to the house and took twelve pullets and a cockerel, while Jack and his mother slept sound and heard nothing.
“Well!” said Jack’s mother in the morning. “The cheek and impudence! Jack,” she says, “tonight, you see that you keep an eye on the hencote door.”
“Yes, mother,” says Jack. “I shall that; never fret.”
so,the next night, Jack took the hencote door up to bed with him and had it for his pillow. And the thieves came again, they did, and this time they took all the chickens there were, and left the hencote empty, while Jack and his mother slept sound and heard nothing.
“Well!” says Jack’s mother in the morning. “The cheek and impudence! Jack,” she says, “I thought I told you to keep an eye on the hencote door last night.”
“Yes, mother,” says Jack. “And it makes a hard pillow.”
“Well!” says Jack’s mother. “Sooner than trust you to do the job right, you blunderskull, you big dunce, I’d have you wind rope out of sand!”
“Yes, mother,” says Jack. “I shall that; never fret.” And Jack went up the road to the sandhole, a big quarry place where people went when they wanted some sand; and he took a load of sand, and he set about winding rope out of it.
Now in this sandhole there lived a boggart; and when he saw Jack winding rope out of the sand, the boggart says, “Whatever are you doing, Jack?”
“I’m winding rope out of sand,” says Jack, “to throttle boggarts with who live in our sandhole and won’t pay rent.”
“Wait on, Jack,” says the boggart. “I must go tell my grandad about this.” And off went the boggart down the hole, while Jack got on with his winding.
Sooner or later, the boggart came back with a big stick; and he says, “Jack,” he says, “Grandad says we’ll pay rent if you chuck his stick higher than I can. And if not, we’ll eat you.”
“Fair do’s,” says Jack.
So the boggart threw his grandad’s stick into the air, and it went so high that Jack could scarce see it, and when it came down again it went so deep into the ground that Jack could scarce catch hold on it.
“There,” says the boggart. “Now it’s your turn.”
But the stick was so fast in the ground that Jack could scarce shift it.
“Buck up!” says the boggart. “What are you waiting for?”
“I’m waiting for that cloud yonder to come a bit nearer,” says Jack; “so as I can chuck the stick on top of it.”
“Oh no you don’t,” says the boggart. “What would grandad do without his stick?” And the boggart pulled the stick out of the ground and went off down the hole, while Jack got on with his winding.
Sooner or later, the boggart came back with a horse, and he says, “Jack,” he says, “Grandad says we’ll pay rent if you can carry this horse round this here sandhole one more time than I can. And if not, we’ll eat you.”
“Fair do’s,” says Jack.
So the boggart picked up the horse, hutched it on his shoulders and set off with it round the sandhole. He carried that horse round that sandhole ten times before he was forced to put it down.
“There,” says the boggart. “Now it’s your go.”
“How must I carry it?” says Jack. “On my shoulder, or between my legs?”
“Between your legs,” says the boggart, and he thought: That’s done him!
But Jack jumped up on the horse’s back, and he rode it round the sandhole; and he rode it and he rode it until that horse was blowing and it couldn’t go another step; twenty times round, he went.
The boggart was amazed; and he calls down to his grandad, “He’s carried it between his legs!” And the boggart’s grandad says, “Best pay him, then!”
“I’m to pay you,” says the boggart to Jack. “How much is rent?”
“Oh,” says Jack, “I reckon my cap filled with gold will do.”
So the boggart went off down the hole to fetch the gold, and, while he was gone, Jack dug a pit, cut the crown from his cap, held his cap over the pit and waited for the boggart.
Sooner or later, the boggart came back with the gold and began at pouring it into Jack’s cap; but Jack’s cap wasn’t filled, and the boggart had to fetch more. And he had to fetch more again; but still it wasn’t filled.
“Grandad!” says the boggart. “We want more gold for rent!”
“There is none!” says the boggart’s grandad. “We’ve run out!”
“What must we do?” says the boggart.
“Best be flitting!” says the boggart’s grandad.
So the boggarts had to flit; and Jack was left with a hole full of sand and a pit of gold; and Jack’s mother, she was very pleased.
There was a woman once in the Isle of Man, and she was scandalous lazy. She was that lazy she would do nothing but sit in the corner of the hearth, warming her shinbones red. And one day, her man gives her some wool to spin for him; and he was not what you would call bright. No; he was slow on the uptaking. But even he could see that he was badly off for clothes to wear, for she was letting them get all ragged on him. Now he’d told her to mend them; told her till he was tired; but all he got out of her was: “Time enough. There’s time enough.”
So, this day, he says to her, “Here’s some wool for you to spin,” says he. “And if it’s not done a month from now, I’ll throw you on the road side, so I will. You and your time enough’ have left me nearly bare!”
Well, the wife was too lazy to spin, even so, but she pretended to be working hard when the man was in the house; and she put the wheel out on the floor every night before the man came in from the field, to be letting on to him that she’d been spinning.
After a while of seeing the wheel so much, and with a week to go to the reckoning, the man says to the wife, “Have you enough thread spun at you now for me to take to the weaver next week, do you think?”
“I don’t know at all,” says the wife. “I’ve not had chance to count the balls, I’ve been that busy. I put them all in the loft as I spin them.”
“Well, let’s count them now,” says he.
“Very well,” says she.
Now