“I started to go down cellar, and there was a man down there chopping
wood, and he knocked me up with his axe.” That was the bull, you know.
“But I shouldn't have minded all that if it hadn't been for that little
fellow on top of the house, who kept a-hollering, 'Chuck him up to me-e!
Chuck him up to me-e!'” Of course that was the cock-a-doodle-do.
MR. VINEGAR
Mr. and Mrs. Vinegar lived in a vinegar bottle. Now, one day, when Mr.
Vinegar was from home, Mrs. Vinegar, who was a very good housewife, was
busily sweeping her house, when an unlucky thump of the broom brought
the whole house clitter-clatter, clitter-clatter, about her ears. In an
agony of grief she rushed forth to meet her husband.
On seeing him she exclaimed, “Oh, Mr. Vinegar, Mr. Vinegar, we are
ruined, I have knocked the house down, and it is all to pieces!” Mr.
Vinegar then said: “My dear, let us see what can be done. Here is
the door; I will take it on my back, and we will go forth to seek our
fortune.”
They walked all that day, and at nightfall entered a thick forest. They
were both very, very tired, and Mr. Vinegar said: “My love, I will climb
up into a tree, drag up the door, and you shall follow.” He accordingly
did so, and they both stretched their weary limbs on the door, and fell
fast asleep.
In the middle of the night Mr. Vinegar was disturbed by the sound of
voices underneath, and to his horror and dismay found that it was a band
of thieves met to divide their booty.
“Here, Jack,” said one, “here's five pounds for you; here, Bill, here's
ten pounds for you; here, Bob, here's three pounds for you.”
Mr. Vinegar could listen no longer; his terror was so great that he
trembled and trembled, and shook down the door on their heads. Away
scampered the thieves, but Mr. Vinegar dared not quit his retreat till
broad daylight.
He then scrambled out of the tree, and went to lift up the door. What
did he see but a number of golden guineas. “Come down, Mrs. Vinegar,” he
cried; “come down, I say; our fortune's made, our fortune's made! Come
down, I say.”
Mrs. Vinegar got down as fast as she could, and when she saw the money
she jumped for joy. “Now, my dear,” said she, “I'll tell you what you
shall do. There is a fair at the neighbouring town; you shall take these
forty guineas and buy a cow. I can make butter and cheese, which
you shall sell at market, and we shall then be able to live very
comfortably.”
Mr. Vinegar joyfully agrees, takes the money, and off he goes to the
fair. When he arrived, he walked up and down, and at length saw a
beautiful red cow. It was an excellent milker, and perfect in every
way. “Oh,” thought Mr. Vinegar, “if I had but that cow, I should be the
happiest, man alive.”
So he offers the forty guineas for the cow, and the owner said that, as
he was a friend, he'd oblige him. So the bargain was made, and he got
the cow and he drove it backwards and forwards to show it.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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