‘Stop, then,’ said John, ‘till thou get a smoke.’
And so saying, John cast the abersgaic and the Mischief into the middle of the furnace: and himself and the furnace went as a green flame of fire to the skies.
The first half is a variant, and a good one, of the Welsh-Gypsy story of ‘Ashypelt’ (No. 57, p. 235); the second half is a variant, a better one, of the latter part of the Welsh-Gypsy ‘Old Smith’ (No. 59, p. 247), and of the confused and imperfect Slovak-Gypsy ‘Old Soldier’ (No. 60, p. 250). The prominence given to tobacco-smoking in both ‘Ashypelt’ and in the Scottish-Tinker story suggests that the forebears of Cornelius Price and those of John MacDonald must have parted company at some time later than the beginning of the seventeenth century, unless, indeed, this resemblance is accidental. About the beginning of the nineteenth century English Gypsies must have visited Scotland much more than they did in 1870–80, when a few of the Smiths or Reynolds, Maces, and Lees, all closely connected, were the only English Gypsies who ‘travelled’ north of the Tweed. Since 1880, again, there has been a great influx of English Gypsydom,—one reason that fortune-telling seems to be not illegal in Scotland. In his notes upon Campbell’s story in Orient und Occident (ii. 1864, pp. 679–680), Reinhold Köhler makes an odd slip, very unusual with him. He renders ‘the Mischief’ by ‘das Unglück,’ and is puzzled why poor Unglück should be so scurvily handled.
[[283]]
No. 75.—The Fox
Brian, the son of the king of Greece, fell in love with the hen-wife’s daughter, and he would marry no other but she. His father said to him on a day of days, before that should happen that he must get first for him the most marvellous bird that there was in the world. Then here went Brian, and he put the world under his head, till he came much further than I can tell, or you can think, till he reached the house of the Carlin of Buskins.[7] He got well taken to by the carlin that night; and in the morning she said to him, ‘It is time for thee to arise. The journey is far.’
When he rose to the door, what was it but sowing and winnowing snow. He looked hither and thither, and what should he see but a fox drawing on his shoes and stockings. ‘Sha! beast,’ said Brian, ‘thou hadst best leave my lot of shoes and stockings for myself.’
‘Och!’ said the fox, ‘it’s long since a shoe or a stocking was on me; and I’m thinking that I shall put them to use this day itself.’
‘Thou ugly beast, art thou thinking to steal my foot-webs, and I myself looking at thee?’