CONTENTS

Page
Nimmy Nimmy Not. Retold[1]
by Emelyn Newcombe Partridge and George Everett Partridge, Ph.D.
The Taileypo[7]
by Richard T. Wyche
Johnny Cake. Retold[10]
by Frank E. Spaulding and Catherine T. Bryce
The Twelve Months. Retold[13]
by R. T. Wyche
Story Telling and Education[19]
by George Everett Partridge, Ph.D.
Story Telling in Boston[24]
by Mary W. Cronan
The Stone Lion. Retold[26]
by Emelyn Newcombe Partridge and George Everett Partridge, Ph.D.
The Oyster and Its Claimants[29]
from La Fontaine’s Æsop’s Fables
The Psycho-Therapeutic Value of Story Telling[30]
by Frances E. Foote
Story Telling For Mothers[32]
The Beowulf Club of West Virginia University[34]
by John Harrington Cox
How to Organize a Story Tellers’ League[35]
What the Leagues are Doing[36]
Editorial[37]
The Mother—The Child—The Story[39]
The Great Epics—Story Hour Cycle[40]
Some Recent Books[42]
Bibliography[44]
Story Tellers’ Leagues[51]
Business Department[55]

Published Monthly
at 27 West 23d St., New York, N. Y.
BY
THE STORYTELLERS’ CO.

R. T. WYCHE, Pres. E. C. DE VILLAVERDE, Sec’y H. D. NEWSON, Treas.
Address, 27 West 23d Street, N. Y.
Subscription $1.00 per Year 10 cents the Copy
Copyright 1913, by The Storytellers’ Co.

And by the vision splendid is on his way attended WORDSWORTH

The Storytellers’ Magazine
Vol. I — JUNE, 1913 — No. 1

Nimmy Nimmy Not
An English Fairy-tale

Retold from English Folk and Fairy Tales—Camelot Series

This story is built upon the lines of a perfect dramatic unit, as set forth by Freytag in his “Technik des Dramas”—(1) Exposition. Facts preceding the principal interest, i. e. the girl and her mother, etc. (2) Ascending Action. The coming of the king. The task. The development of the plot. (3) The Climax. This is the revelation of the name by the king, followed by the Supreme Moment which was the revelation of the proper name to Nimmy Nimmy Not. (4) Descending Action. The disposal of the villain through his “shrivelling up” and “flying away.” (5) Conclusion. “Living happy ever after.”

Joseph Jacobs in his “English Fairy Stories” gives us the following information in regard to the story: “Unearthed by Mr. E. Clodd, from the Suffolk Notes and Queries of the Ipswitch Journal, and re-printed by him in Folk-Lore Journal vii. 138-43. It has its parallels in Devonshire’s as “Duffy and the Devil,” in Hunt’s Romances and Drolls of the West of England, 239-47; in Scotland two variants are given by Chambers, “In Popular Rhymes of Scotland.” It is clearly the same as Grimm’s “Rumpelstiltskin” (No. 14).

Mr. Clodd sees in the class of name-guessing stories, a “survival” of the superstition that to know a man’s name gives you power over him, for which reason savages object to tell their names. It may be necessary—to explain to the little one, that Tom Tit can only be referred to as “That” because his name is not known until the end.

The version of the story here given is republished by permission from “Story Telling in School and Home,” by Evelyn Newcombe Partridge and George Everett Partridge, Ph. D., New York. Sturgis & Walton Co.

The illustrations for the story are reproduced from “English Fairy Stories,” through the courtesy of the author Joseph Jacobs and the publishers Messrs. G. P. Putnam’s Sons, New York.

Once upon a time there was a woman, and she baked five pies. And when she took them from the oven, she found that they had baked so long the crusts were too hard to eat. So she said to her daughter:

“Put you them there pies on the shelf, and by and by they’ll come again.” She meant, you know, the crust would get soft.

The girl, she took the pies into the pantry, and she put them upon the shelf in a long even row. She looked at them, and she thought how good they would taste.

“Well, if them there pies’ll come again,” she said to herself, “I may as well eat them now.”

So she ate them all, first and last!

Come supper time, the woman said:

“Go you and get one of them there pies, I dare say they’ve come again by this time.”

The daughter she went into the pantry, and she looked at the shelf. There were the five pie plates just as she had left them,—empty! So she went back to her mother and she said:

“Noo, they ain’t come again.”

“Not one of them?” said the mother.

“Noo, not one of them,” says she.

“Well, come again or not come again, I’ll have one for my supper.” And the old woman went toward the pantry.

“But you can’t have one, if they ain’t come again, mother.”

“But I can,” the woman declared. “I’ll have the best one for my supper.”

“Best or worst,” the daughter said, “I’ve ate them all! And you can’t have one ’til they’ve come again!”

Well, the woman, she was so astonished she forgot all about supper. She carried her spinning to the doorway, and as she span, she sang a little song about her daughter:

“My daughter has ate five, five pies today,

My daughter has ate five, five pies today!”

Now the king was coming down the road, and he heard the woman singing, but he could not hear the words. So he stopped in front of the door and said:

“My good woman, what were you singing?”

Now the old woman did not want anyone to know what a greedy daughter she had; so she sang instead of that,

“My daughter has spun five, five skeins today.”

“Land sakes alive!” said the king, “I never heard tell of anyone’s doing that. Now look you here, my good woman. I want a wife, and I’ll marry your daughter. But look you here. For eleven months of the year she shall have all the victuals she wants to eat, and all the clothes she wants to wear, and all the company she likes to keep. But the twelfth month, she must spin five skeins every day, or off’ll go her head!”

“All right,” says the woman, for she thought:

“What a grand marriage this will be. And as for them there five skeins, by that time he’ll forget all about them.”

So they were married. And for eleven months the girl had all the victuals she wanted to eat, and she had all the clothes she wanted to get, and she had all the company she liked to keep. But sometimes she felt a little uneasy. Sometimes she thought of that spinning she must do.

The king, he never said one word about the five skeins, so as the eleven months had nearly passed, the girl thought that he had forgotten all about it.

But one day, it was the last day of the eleventh month! The king came to her, and he took her into a little room she had never seen before. There was nothing in it but a spinning wheel and a little chair and a small bare table.

“Here, my girl,” says he, “here I’ll put you tomorrow. And I’ll lock the door. And here you must stay all day long. At night I’ll come, and if you’ve not spun the five skeins, off’ll go your head!” And away he went about his business.

Well, the girl was that frightened! She had always been such a gatless creature that she didn’t even know how to spin! She sat down on a stool and she began to cry. How she did cry!

However, all of a sudden she heard a knocking, knocking, low down at the door. She got up and she opened the door. There stood a little black thing, WITH A LONG BLACK TAIL. And That looked up at her out of the corner of That’s eyes, and That says:

“What are you crying for?”

“What’s that to you?” says she.

“Never you mind, but tell me what you are crying for. Perhaps I can help you,” the little black thing told her.

“Well, it can’t do any harm, if it doesn’t do any good,” she thought. So she told him all about the five pies, and the five skeins and everything.

“This is what I’ll do,” says that little black thing, twirling his BIG BLACK TAIL. “I’ll come to your window every morning and get the flax, and at night I’ll bring it home all spun.”

“What’s your pay?” says she.

That looked at her again out of the corner of That’s eyes. “I’ll give you three guesses every night to guess my name, and if you haven’t guessed it by the last night, you shall be MINE!”

The girl thought that she would be sure to guess it before the month was up, so she said:

“All right.”

“All right,” That says, and how That did twirl That’s tail!

Well, the next day, the king took her into the room, and there was the flax, and the day’s supply of victuals.

“Now, my dear,” says he, “if that ain’t spun by night, off’ll go your head.” Then he went out and locked the door behind him.

The king had no sooner gone, than a knock,—knock came at the window. There was the little black thing sitting on the window ledge. She gave him the flax and away he flew.

Well, at evening, the knocking came again at the window. The girl opened it, and there stood the little black thing with the flax on his arm, all beautifully spun.

“Here it is,” he said, as he gave it to her. “Now, what’s my name?”

“Is that Bill?” says she.

“Noo, that ain’t,” says he, and he twirled his tail.

“Is that Ned, then?”

“Noo, that ain’t.”

“Well, is that Mark, then?” she asked.

“Noo.” And That twirled That’s tail harder and away That flew.

When the king came in, there were the skeins beautifully spun.

“Well, I see, my dear, that you won’t lose your head tonight.” And he went away and left her locked in the room.

So every day the flax and the food were brought to the girl. And every morning the little black imp would knock at the window and carry away the flax, and every night it would bring back the flax spun. And every night the girl would try the three times to guess the imp’s name, but she could never guess the right one.

At last, the last day had come. And that night when the imp brought back the skeins, he said:

“What, ain’t you guessed my name yet?”

“Is that Nicodemas?” says she.

“Noo, that ain’t,” That says.

“Is that Samuel?”

“Noo, not that neither.” Then That looked at her with That’s eyes like coals of fire, and That says:

“Woman, there’s only tomorrow night, and THEN YOU’LL BE MINE!” And away That flew.

Well, the girl she felt that bad. However, she heard the king coming along the passage. In he came, and when he saw the five skeins, he said:

“My dear, I don’t see but you’ll have your skeins ready tomorrow night as well, so I reckon I shall not have to kill you, and I’ll have supper in here tonight.”

So they brought the supper in, and the two sat down to the table.

Well, he had eaten but a mouthful, when he began to laugh.

“What are you laughing at?” the girl asked him.

“Well, today when I was out in the forest, I saw the funniest sight.... I was in a strange part where I had never been before. And I saw an old chalk pit.... And I heard the queerest humming and humming coming from the pit. So I got off my hobby and crept over to the pit without making a bit of a sound. And there I saw the strangest looking little black thing with a long, black tail. And That was sitting at a little spinning wheel, and That was spinning so fast that I could scarcely see the wheel. And while That span, That sang,

“Nimmy, nimmy not,

My name is Tom Tit Tot.”

“And That kept singing it over again and again.”

When the girl heard this, she was so happy that she could almost have jumped out of her skin for joy, but she didn’t say a word.

Next day, that little black thing looked so maliceful! And when night came she heard the knock at the window, she opened it, and the little black thing jumped into the room. He was grinning from ear to ear, and O! That’s tail was twirling round so fast!

“What’s my name?” That said, as That gave her the skeins.

“Is that Solomon?” said the girl, pretending to be afraid.

“Noo, that ain’t,” That said, and That came further into the room.

“Well, is that Zebedee?” says she again.

“Noo, that ain’t.” And then That laughed, and twirled That’s tail until you could hardly see That.

“Take time, woman! The next guess AND YOU ARE MINE!” And That stretched out That’s black hands at her.

Well, she moved back a step or two, and she looked at that little black thing, and then she laughed out, and says she, pointing her finger at it,

“Nimmy, nimmy not,

Your name is Tom Tit Tot.”

When that black impet heard her, That shriveled right up, and away That flew and was never heard of again.

And the girl lived happily ever after, and the king never again asked her to do any more spinning.