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 https://archive.org/details/mamasblacknursesOOmiln 
 
 MAMMA’S — 
 
 _ BLACK NURSE STORIES 
 
 - 
 
‘fA land 
 In which it seeméd always afternoon. 
 
 A land of streams! some like a downward smoke, 
 Slow-dropping veils of thinnest lawn, did go ; 
 
 And some thro’ wavering lights and shadows broke, 
 Rolling a slumb’rous sheet of foam below. 
 
 Thro’ mountain clefts the dale 
 Was seen far inland, and the yellow down 
 Border’d with palm, and many a winding vale 
 And meadow, set with slender galingale : 
 A land where all things always seem’d the same!” 
 —TeEnnyson, ‘The Lotos-EHaters. 
 
Me 
 
‘NNa@d V NO—,,dSQOH LVAUD,, AHL 
 
MAMMA’S 
 BLACK NURSE STORIES 
 
 WEST INDIAN FOLK-LORE 
 
 BY 
 
 MARY PAMELA MILNE-FOME 
 
 WITH SIX FULL-PAGE ILLUSTRATIONS 
 
 WILLIAM BLACKWOOD AND SONS 
 EDINBURGH AND LONDON 
 MDCCCXC 
 
TO 
 
 MY FATHER 
 ligne ly lt Si De OE DT, Ls 
 
 OF FORT GEORGE, JAMAICA. 
 
 A DAUGHTER’S REMEMBRANCE OF 
 
 DAYS IN JAMAICA. 
 
PREFATORY NOTE. 
 
 THE following pages represent pretty well 
 what is stated on the title-page; but I 
 cannot launch my little book without 
 expressing my grateful acknowledgment 
 to those West India friends who have 
 helped me in what has been a most 
 pleasant task; and can only trust that 
 what has thus been collected may be 
 appreciated, not only by those who are 
 at home in the West Indies and their 
 Folk-lore, but by others at home in the 
 
viii PREFATORY NOTE. 
 
 “old country” who are strangers to the 
 traditions of the Spanish Main. 
 
 I also offer my best thanks to Sir 
 George Webbe Dasent, D.C.L., and 
 to his publisher, Mr David Douglas of 
 Edinburgh, for their kind permission to 
 incorporate in this volume certain Anansi 
 Tales which appeared in the Appendix 
 to ‘Popular Tales from the Norse,’ some 
 thirty years ago. 
 
 M, P. M.-H: 
 
 Paxton Hovusz, BERWICKSHIRE, 
 April 1890. 
 
CONTENTS. 
 
 WHENCE THEY CAME, 
 GLOSSARY OF WORDS, 
 
 PAR PAR 
 
 ANANSI AND ALLIGATOR, . ; : 
 BROTHER DEATH, . 
 
 THE LADY AND THE BULL, : 
 
 THE SNAKE AND THE KING’S DAUGHTER, 
 THE STORY OF ANANSI AND TIGER, . 
 THE SNAKE, . : : : 
 THE AFFASSIA, . 
 
 GOAT AND ANANSI, 
 
 ANANSI, HIS WIFE, AND TIGER, 
 
 THE STORY ABOUT RAT AND CAT, 
 ANANSI, TIGER, AND GOAT, 
 GARSHAN BULL, : , : : 
 THE LADY AND THE LITTLE DOGGIE, 
 THE KING AND THE PEAFOWL, : 
 
 PAGE 
 
 30 
 40 
 42 
 46 
 51 
 54 
 56 
 58 
 61 
 63 
 65 
 67 
 70 
 73 
 
XG CONTENTS. 
 
 PAR Tab 
 
 REPRINTED BY KIND PERMISSION OF SIR GEORGE 
 
 WEBBE DASENT, D.C.L. 
 
 THE LION, GOAT, AND BABOON, 
 
 THE LITTLE CHILD AND THE PUMPKIN-TREE, 
 THE KING AND THE ANT’S TREE, . : 
 THE GIRL AND THE FISH, 
 
 THE DANCING GANG, 
 
 ANANSI AND BABOON, : 
 
 ANANSI AND THE LION, 
 
 ANANSI AND QUANQUA, . : 
 
 THE BROTHER AND HIS SISTERS, . : 
 
 WHY THE JACK SPANIARD’S WAIST IS SMALL, . 
 
 THE MAN AND THE DOUKANA TREE, - 
 THE EAR OF CORN AND THE TWELVE MEN, 
 
 ° 
 
 PAGE 
 
 81 
 84 
 89 
 91 
 94 
 96 
 99 
 109 
 114 
 121 
 122 
 125 
 
LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS. 
 
 THE “GREAT HOUSE”—ON A PENN, : Frontispiece 
 “HE TELL ANANSI ’TORY FINE,”  . . To face page 6 
 A MOUNTAIN HAMLET, . ; : : " n 24 
 THE HAUNT OF ANANSI, . . . . wn 1 66 
 
 STREET IN A WEST INDIAN TOWN —ST 
 ANN’S, JAMAICA, ; ; : ‘ " n 81 
 
 HOME OF A SUGAR-PLANTER, . , " pe D2 
 
WHENCE THEY CAME. 
 
 N the West Indies, if you desire to be 
 told a fairy tale or anything of the 
 kind, you must ask for Anansi stories. 
 In old days these were usually related 
 at local gatherings of black people, such as 
 weddings or funerals, the latter being, like 
 wakes in Ireland, equal occasions for 
 festivity with the former. But the difh- 
 culty in these days of obtaimg any 
 information on this subject from a West 
 India negro will, I fear, scarcely be realised 
 
 A 
 
2 WEST INDIAN FOLK-LORE. 
 
 by the generality of readers. Whether 
 it is that the great spread of education 
 causes them to fear ridicule on the part of 
 white questioners, or that the systematic 
 discouragement of the clergy of all sects is 
 beginning to take effect at last, certain it 
 is that any one seeking to take down tales 
 from the lips of a negro will have to spend 
 much time, patience, and persuasion ere the 
 narrator will cease to say, “‘ Dat foolish- 
 ness ; wonder Missis car to har dat.” 
 Yet, all the time, probably that same 
 old woman will keep the children quiet 
 with these tales, and the small white 
 bucera sitting by its nurse will have a 
 flood of folk-lore wasted on its entertain- 
 
 ment, which an elder interested in the 
 
WHENCE THEY CAME. 3 
 
 same will vainly endeavour to induce to 
 flow. Anansi stories, which are those 
 generally told to children, owe their name 
 to a mysterious personage who plays a 
 principal part in most of them—a hairy 
 old man with long nails, very ugly, called 
 Brother or Father A-nansi. Although 
 this word is sometimes spelt Ananzi, I 
 prefer the former spelling, as I think it 
 shows the derivation more clearly, as I 
 shall presently explain. 
 
 In some ways Anansi bears a resem- 
 blance to the Scandinavian Troll or 
 Scrattel, and the lLubber-fiend of the 
 English north country: he is said to be 
 undersized and hairy, and his friendship 
 
 is often unlucky, his presents turning to 
 
+ WEST INDIAN FOLK-LORE. 
 
 leaves or stones. Like the Rakshas of old 
 Deccan days, and the demon subjects of 
 the Cinghalese Devil, he is sometimes very 
 hideous to look upon, and will go in rags 
 when he has bags of money hidden away. 
 His voice, too, is peculiar: he is said to speak 
 through his nose, and his speech is very 
 unintellicible, the reason given being that 
 he talks so much with the beasts that at 
 
 ) 
 
 last he talks ““same as them”; and a negro 
 story-teller will always give Anansi’s re- 
 marks, therefore, with an odd indescribable 
 nasal accent. His character is not unlike 
 that of the German Reinecke Fuchs, or 
 the Japanese Avtsuné Fox: he is very 
 thievish and cunning, and plays tricks like 
 
 the jackal in the Hindoo stories, and 
 
WHENCE THEY CAME. 5 
 
 generally gets the better of the other an1i- 
 mals, and of men whom he sometimes be- 
 friends, but more often dupes and outwits. 
 He sometimes takes the form of a spider ; 
 and there is a certain large house-spider 
 with hairy legs and yellowish stripes, quite 
 harmless, which it is said to be unlucky 
 to kill, commonly called Anansi. This 
 word, like so many terms in use in the 
 West Indies, comes from the West Coast 
 of Africa, where the Ashantees have a 
 word, Ananse, meaning spider. 
 
 Another West African word, nan, means 
 to spin, and there is a somewhat similar 
 term (Ananisem) for a story, which is not 
 at all unsuitable when one considers the 
 
 way in which a folk-tale is spun by a 
 
6 WEST INDIAN FOLK-LORE. 
 
 native story-teller. These are generally 
 old women, but sometimes a man will have 
 a reputation as a narrator. We had a 
 coachman, of whom it was said in the 
 quarters, “he tell Anansi ‘tory fine”; and 
 a driver on the cattle-pen was equally 
 renowned. 
 
 Tecuma seems to be another name for 
 Anansi: as my informant expressed it, 
 ‘“ Tecuma one spider, Anansi one Tecuma. 
 Tecuma big and foolish, Anansi smaller 
 and more ’cute ;” in short, he always gets 
 the better of Tecuma, as he does of all the 
 other creatures. In some tales A-nansi’s 
 wife is called A-toukama, which also means 
 spider, and it is probable Tecuma is only 
 
 another form of the same. 
 
‘*HE TELL ANANSI ’TORY FINE.” —Page 6. 
 
WHENCE THEY CAME. 7 
 
 Besides Anansi stories there are also 
 what are called Duppy or Jumbi stories. 
 These relate, however, solely to ghosts. 
 They haunt particular houses, places, or 
 roads, maltreating the passers-by some- 
 times. There is a delightful story of a 
 Duppy who met with a drunken man rid- 
 ing home from market, and with a laud- 
 able objection to intemperance, shook 
 Sambo off his horse into a muddy pool, 
 and so belaboured him that he was barely 
 able to crawl home. 
 
 Another Duppy haunted a pasture on 
 our cattle-pen. He was mysteriously 
 called the Rolling Calf, and his presence 
 was said so to alarm cattle that it be- 
 
 came impossible ever to leave any in that 
 
8 WEST INDIAN FOLK-LORE, 
 
 pasture at night. I remember, too, a 
 maid who had been paying a visit to 
 friends in town, coming home rather late 
 across a pasture full of cattle, and de- 
 claring on her arrival at the house that 
 she had seen a Duppy. I endeavoured 
 to extract an accurate description which 
 might have resulted in his portrait here, 
 but I never got anything except that he 
 had flaming eyes, and was like a cow, 
 which last was not improbable. 
 
 A more bond-fide ghost was one which 
 gave an evil name to the old and tumble- 
 down coffee-works on a certain plantation. 
 A black workman in old days having been 
 killed by a fall, said not to have been 
 
 involuntary, from the top-floor window, 
 
WHENCE THEY CAME. 9 
 
 ever after no one would go near the spot, 
 except in broad daylight and in company. 
 An old wrinkled negro, who crept over 
 from a neighbouring estate and installed 
 himself in the haunted precincts, among 
 the damp and mouldy planks and silent 
 water-wheel, overgrown with a tropical 
 tangle of fern, was looked upon as un- 
 canny, and there were dark whispers 
 that he was an Obi man. He at least 
 must have been a sceptic with regard to 
 the evil repute of his haunt, though he 
 took advantage of it to ensure himself an 
 undisturbed dwelling-place. 
 
 As far as I know, he never did any- 
 thing more dreadful than steal plantains 
 
 for a living; and as a picturesque object 
 
10 WEST INDIAN FOLK-LORE. 
 
 sitting half-naked under the horse-eye 
 trees by the river that ran by his door, 
 he was worth a few bunches surely. 
 Although Duppies resemble what the 
 French would call revenants, the Wald 
 Geist of German and the ghost proper of 
 English fears, they seem also somewhat to 
 resemble the Irish and Gaelic fetch, which 
 presents all the appearance of some human 
 creature who is far from being dead at the 
 moment. In one instance, two men were 
 going to the boiling-house early one morn- 
 ing. They crossed a cane-piece, and the 
 story goes they saw a third man, a negro, 
 passing before them through the waving 
 cane-tops : he was deaf to any call, and 
 
 seemed to disappear within the building ; 
 
WHENCE THEY CAME. 11 
 
 but when, a moment after, they also en- 
 tered, no man or any trace of man was 
 there. <A sceptic with knowledge of the 
 negro propensity for stealing sugar might 
 easily find an explanation of this legend, 
 so that no doubt, in this case, the pro- 
 verbial thief was not found lurking among 
 the pans. 
 
 This reminds one of the curious super- 
 stition prevailing in Martinique, of the 
 diablesse, a beautiful negress with pierc- 
 ing eyes, who passes silently through some 
 lonely cane-piece where men and women 
 are at work, and whatever man she smiles 
 upon must arise sooner or later and follow 
 her — to death, since he is never seen 
 
 again. So that if within a day or two 
 
12 WEST INDIAN FOLK-LORE. 
 
 any hand be missing, his fellows murmur 
 among themselves that he has been be- 
 witched by the dzablesse. This super- 
 stition is apparently akin to that prevail- 
 ing among the Russian peasants, of the 
 Baba Yagas, witch-women whose look 
 wiles a man away to death. In Jamaica 
 it is said that the wearing of an alligator’s 
 tooth prevents a person seeing Duppies. 
 This pretty little amulet is also supposed 
 to avert ill-luck in love affairs. The line 
 between Duppies and Jumbies does not 
 seem very definitely traced, but it seems 
 to me that Duppies partake more of the 
 nature of apparitions, both of man and 
 beast ; and Jumbies, or, as they call them 
 
 in the soft Bitaco speech of Martinique, 
 
WHENCE THEY CAME. 13 
 
 “ Zombies,” are more of devils or demons, 
 like those that play such a part in Russian 
 and Japanese superstition. People who 
 are out of doors very early in the morning 
 in tropical latitudes, often feel, in the midst 
 of the cool freshness, sudden breaths of 
 hot air—a curious phenomenon I cannot 
 explain, and which the negroes account 
 for by saying they are passing by Jumbi’s 
 fireplace, where he made his fire over- 
 night. 
 
 The beautiful silk cotton-tree, Bombax 
 ceiba, is supposed to be a favourite haunt 
 of Jumbi, and it takes a good many 
 drinks of rum to induce a negro to cut 
 down one of these trees, as he is con- 
 
 vinced some evil will certainly overtake 
 
14 WEST INDIAN FOLK-LORE, | 
 
 him afterwards. And for this a lover 
 of nature is inclined to bless Jumbi, as 
 the means of saving many of those grand 
 kings of the forest with their buttressed 
 trunks which would otherwise fall, in 
 common with the rest of the virgin 
 forest, to the sweeping machete and all- 
 consuming fire by which the black man 
 converts what he is pleased to term the 
 worthless bush into a future provision- 
 ground, where within a few months will 
 be seen yams, like Kentish hops, climb- 
 ing up their poles, or maybe cocos with 
 gigantic leaves, or perhaps a cane-piece 
 or banana-field in miniature. Unluckily 
 this superstition does not appear to influ- 
 
 ence sufficiently deeply Master Quashie, 
 
WHENCE THEY CAME. 15 
 
 when, as a fisherman, he pockets his dread 
 of Jumbi’s ire, sacrifices the cotton-tree, 
 hollows out the trunk, and forms one of 
 those splendid canoes which one may see 
 darting about among the purple and 
 green shallows within the coral-reefs, or 
 scudding under sail before the wind, laden 
 with varied cargo of red-gold oranges, 
 luscious pines, and other fruit and vege- 
 tables, to sometimes even quite distant 
 markets. 
 
 And now for a word upon another wide- 
 spread West Indian superstition—Obi or 
 Obeah. The term has travelled far, and 
 identified itself with the West Indian 
 Islands, although it is primarily of Hast 
 
 African origin, and means serpent-wor- 
 
16 WEST INDIAN FOLK-LORE. 
 
 ship. In the old mythology of Egypt 
 the snake was named Ob, and even now 
 he is called Obion. But with its migra- 
 tion to the Spanish Main, and the coming 
 of the votaries of Obi under Christian 
 influences (such as they were), it gradu- 
 ally came more to signify dealings in the 
 Black Art, and its professors are regarded 
 somewhat as wise women and wise men 
 were looked upon in English country 
 villages, and spay-queans in Denmark or 
 spae-wives in Scotland, by squire and 
 peasant alike, some sixty years ago—as 
 better friends than enemies. 
 
 They have usually a lke knowledge of 
 simple poisons and their antidotes; but I 
 
 fear the Obi man often did use his know- 
 
WHENCE THEY CAME. ie 
 
 ledge to the same unhallowed murder- 
 ous end as the modern “moonlghter” 
 of civilisation uses his knowledge of 
 steel and iron behind the hedge. Voudow 
 is said to be merely Obi in full force ; but 
 whether this is so, I do not pretend to 
 know. It 1s curious, however, to trace the 
 worship of the snake withering under the 
 civilising influence of Christianity, and 
 leaving the snake with merely the same 
 uncanny character that he bears all over 
 the world. Here in these Folk-tales we 
 have the serpent disguising himself as a 
 man, and deceiving women (see No. IV. 
 and No. VI., Part I.) In India there are 
 similar tales: who does not recollect the 
 Cobras with their magic powers? In 
 
 B 
 
18 WEST INDIAN FOLK-LORE. 
 
 Japan, for instance, the story of Yamata 
 no Orochi, the eight-headed serpent who 
 tries to carry off a maiden; in Russia 
 there are also lovers who are snakes 
 disguised ; and in North America, among 
 the Algonquin Indians and others, ex- 
 amples might be easily multiplied. 
 Although now it is very generally 
 known what strange similarity prevails 
 among different nations in regard to cur- 
 rent myths and folk-tales, I cannot for- 
 bear remarking here that the story of 
 Anansi making the tiger do duty as his 
 riding-horse has a curious parallel in one 
 of the River Amazon Tortoise tales, where- 
 in the Jaboty or land tortoise, whose réle 
 
 is very much that of Reynard the fox 
 
WHENCE THEY CAME. 19 
 
 in European tales, behaves in a similar 
 manner to Teyu the lizard, telling some 
 neighbours that the lizard was nothing 
 much, and indeed he made use of him as a 
 riding-horse. Then when the assertion 
 is repeated, the angry lizard hastens 
 to visit the Jaboty, who pretends to 
 be ill and unable to walk to the neigh- 
 bour’s, and deludes the lizard into offering 
 to carry him on his back. Then ensues a 
 very similar dialogue to that given in No. 
 Y., which ends in the lizard setting forth 
 saddled and bridled, and the cunning 
 tortoise on his back, duly provided with 
 spurs and whip, — which he does not 
 scruple to use as they approach the house 
 
 of the neighbour, with the triumphant 
 
20 WEST INDIAN FOLK-LORE. 
 
 exclamation, “Didn't I say Lizard was 
 my riding-horse?” I think, too, there is 
 another Amazon folk-tale in which clever 
 Uncle Cotia (a sort of rabbit) tells the 
 Deer the Jaguar is his riding-horse, and 
 successfully outwits the Jaguar accord- 
 ingly. Readers of Uncle Remus’s tales 
 of the old cotton-plantation may remem- 
 ber how Brer Rabbit told Miss Meadows 
 and the “gals” that Brer Fox was his 
 father’s riding- horse, and by declaring 
 himself sick, deluded Brer Fox into sub- 
 mitting to wear saddle and bridle; when 
 the sequel is the same as in the previous 
 tale. The story of the Lady and the 
 Bull also reminds us of those European 
 myths, the Roan Bull of Orange, and the 
 
WHENCE THEY CAME. 21 
 
 Brown Bull of Norrowa, and of Europa 
 and the Bull. But upon this point of 
 view I can no longer dwell. 
 
 There is a curious mixture in these 
 stories of what is evidently taken from 
 old African traditions, since we find in 
 them lions, tigers, and monkeys, all un- 
 known in the West Indian islands. Some 
 of the descriptions of Anansi bear a 
 shadowy resemblance to the gorillas, or 
 the legendary Soko, that half-human and 
 hairy Man of the Woods of African tradi- 
 tion; whereas the local setting and scen- 
 ery essentially belong to the West Indies. 
 There are the rivers, crossed by narrow 
 bridges of Inanes, some of them with low- 
 
 lying banks, and half choked with big 
 
22 WEST INDIAN FOLK-LORE. 
 
 white stones; the houses, raised on brick 
 pillars from the ground, beneath which 
 congregate pigs, fowls, goats, and dogs, 
 seeking shelter in this way from the too 
 powerful rays of the sun; the gaily 
 decked buggies in which the people drive 
 to their merrymakings, and the inter- 
 minably long visits and speeches in 
 which the negro delights. Nor does the 
 love of litigation, common among the 
 negroes, fail to find its illustration. 
 Anansis opponents bring him to justice. 
 In the story of Anansi and Alligator, the 
 facility afforded to Anansi’s thievish pro- 
 pensities by the kitchen being a separate 
 building, is apparent to any who may be 
 acquainted with West Indian dwellings, 
 
WHENCE THEY CAME. 23 
 
 where the kitchen stands on the other side 
 of the yard, and the dishes travel back- 
 wards and forwards on the heads of the 
 servants. The Muscovy ducks, too, with 
 their husky whistling voices, which take 
 delightful part in the tale of the King 
 and the Peafowl, may also be seen wad- 
 dling about many a negro cabin. And the 
 wharf whence Anansi takes boat, weedy 
 and moss-grown, running out into the 
 limpid water, is it not a common object 
 in a West Indian seaside landscape? since 
 every estate-owner liked to have his own 
 wharf at which to lade his droguers with 
 his sugar and rum. Yet while to those 
 who know the country these tales bear 
 
 a local stamp, I fear to strangers there 
 
24 WEST INDIAN FOLK-LORE. 
 
 will seem a woful want of scenic descrip- 
 tion in them. It is not because there is 
 no scenery to describe. Far from it. 
 Were a word-painter to arise to do for 
 the West Indies what G. W. Cable has 
 done for New Orleans and Louisiana, he 
 would find no lack of material to work 
 upon: there are spots that are literally 
 dreams of beauty —for instance, Ocho 
 Rios in Jamaica, with its soft -sound- 
 ing Spanish name, meaning the Eight 
 Rivers; the little cluster of white and 
 brown cottages, among waving palm- 
 trees feathering the shore—even the dirt 
 and squalor, inseparable from a West 
 Indian as from an Irish hamlet, looking 
 
 almost comfortable in the warm glow 
 
‘LAINVH NIVINOQOW V 
 
WHENCE THEY CAME. 25 
 
 of the atmosphere, the white coral sands 
 stretching down to the edge of the dreamy 
 sea, where brown rocks and green and 
 purple lights and shades fade into blue,— 
 such a blue turquoise tint as is never seen 
 and scarcely believed in on the paler Eng- 
 lish shores. And a sea-girt road beneath 
 a snow-white cliff, tapestried with ferns 
 in wild luxuriance, such as are painfully 
 coaxed to drag out a puny existence in 
 European hothouses. And lovely spark- 
 ling streams, of which it is said in Jamaica 
 that whoso drinks must come back to 
 that verdant land; and the high woods 
 full of tropical tangle, all scented with 
 dreamy perfumes. According to the his- 
 
 torian Bridges, the very name of the 
 
26 WEST INDIAN FOLK-LORE. 
 
 island comes from two Indian words— 
 Chabatian (water) and makia (wood). 
 Xaymaca, the compound, on the lips of 
 the Spanish conquerors became Chamakia, 
 which the English supplanters corrupted 
 into Jamaica, therefore the land of wood 
 and water. 
 
 For the sake of veracity, in the tale of 
 Anansi and Goat it is hardly necessary 
 to explain the apparent taunt of the dog, 
 to any who have seen the sudden spates 
 in Highland rivers—or even freshets in 
 English streams. I have myself seen a 
 dry river-bed when “down,” as we say 
 in Jamaica, become impassable within a 
 few hours. 
 
 The want of grace and description about 
 
WHENCE THEY CAME. 27 
 
 these Folk-tales seems to be less striking 
 wherever the Frenchman or Spaniard has 
 had dominion : in Martinique, for instance, 
 there seems to be more romance and 
 graceful sentiment about the negro and 
 Creole superstitions than in Jamaica, the 
 ghost stories are more weird and power- 
 ful, and the expressions used are happier 
 and more refined. For example, the 
 “ Zombi-bird”’ in one of the old contes 
 is described as having his feathers tinted 
 with the “hues of other days,’ and the 
 clouds are called the sheep of “le Bon- 
 Dié.” Perhaps the grace and wit (as I 
 must, for want of a better word, translate 
 esprit) of the old French settlers have 
 
 left an impression upon their descendants : 
 
28 WEST INDIAN FOLK-LORE. 
 
 it may be remembered that the charming 
 Empress Joséphine, Napoleon’s first wife, 
 wasa Creole. Such romance as the Spanish 
 occupants of Jamaica may have left be- 
 sides a few names—for instance, San Jago 
 de la Vega, which still survives on the 
 old milestones, for Spanish Town, and 
 Agua-Alta, now the prosaic Wagwater 
 river—has been overgrown by the hard 
 common-sense of the British, a sort of 
 mental Scotchman hugging the Creole, 
 —a botanical comparison, the strength of 
 which will not be lost on any West 
 Indian. 
 
 Or it may be that in the shadow of 
 the Roman Catholic religion, romance and 
 
 superstition have freer growth. I do not 
 
WHENCEHE THEY CAME. 29 
 
 for one moment wish to say that Catholic 
 priests do not with equal zeal to that of 
 Protestant ministers wage war with super- 
 stition and witcheraft, Obz and the like. 
 But these priests are many of them of 
 superior mental calibre, and are therefore 
 more indulgent to the credulity of poor 
 Sambo. As will have been seen, I have 
 endeavoured to show the local setting of 
 these Tales; but alas! they lose much by 
 not being told by Edith or Desdemona, 
 Quasheba or Queenie, who, with smiling 
 black countenance and gleaming white 
 teeth, will drop down before you on the 
 floor as polished as her face, and sitting 
 cross-legged with her ample starched 
 petticoats stiffly spread out, will spin to 
 
30 WEST INDIAN FOLK-LORE. 
 
 you the prime favourites of the Creole 
 nursery or kitchen, differing slightly ac- 
 cording to a more or less lively imagina- 
 tion. The negro’s quaint broken English, 
 people new to the country find rather dif 
 ficult to understand at first, and a short 
 Glossary has therefore been inserted. It 
 is curious to note the many idioms that 
 have dropped out of use in England, and 
 local Scotticisms that survive in the slow 
 soft speech of the West Indian Creole ; 
 —Creole, I may add, since it is a sadly 
 misapprehended term, signifying a person 
 born in the West Indies, whether black 
 or white, and being even applied to ani- 
 mals and inanimate things. 
 
 And now for the old question and 
 
WHENCE THEY CAME. 31 
 
 answer before beginning, of story-telling 
 Das and children in Martinique: Bobonne 
 fois? Toua fors bel conte. 
 
 M. P. M.-H. 
 
Akra, 
 
 A ffassia, 
 Breadkind, 
 Buccra, 
 Brar, 
 Bush, 
 Cush-cush, 
 Calabash, . 
 Dae 
 Droguer,. . 
 Fe, . 
 Lay out, 
 Machete, . 
 
 Ruinate ground, 
 
 Yearree, 
 
 GLOSSARY OF WORDS. 
 
 Hibiscus esculentus, a tree with 
 edible fruit. 
 
 A kind of yam. 
 
 Signifies all kinds of yams. 
 
 White man. 
 
 Brother. 
 
 Uncleared land. 
 
 A. kind of yam. 
 
 Fruit of calabash tree. 
 
 Nurse. 
 
 Small coasting-vessel. 
 
 For. 
 
 To hide. 
 
 Cutlass used by labourers. 
 From the Spanish. 
 
 Land that has fallen out of 
 cultivation, 
 
 To hear. 
 
ANANSI AND ALLIGATOR. 
 
 NCE ‘pon a time Anansi call ‘pon 
 big Alhgator, for git him a place 
 
 for sleep till ar marnin’. Alligator say, 
 ‘A’ right, come in ar house.” Anansi say, 
 “Brar, me no want for sleep in de 
 house, me wan’ for sleep in de kitchen.” 
 “A? right,” say Alligator, “you can.” 
 Now all dis time, when Anansi and 
 Alligator was tarking, Alligator Darter 
 was behin’ de door, so dem har ebery 
 
 wud. So when dem har dat Anansi 
 
36 WEST INDIAN FOLK-LORE. 
 
 was gwine to sleep in de kitchen, dem 
 went and ketch a lat of ’corpions, for 
 put in ar de pot, for dem know well 
 Anansi always sarch de pots. When 
 Anansi go to bed, him lay down for a 
 little; when him tink eberybody dey 
 sleep, him put him han’ into de pot, 
 when one of de ’corpions bite him. Him 
 halla, “‘ Lahd!” When Alligator har him, 
 him say, ‘‘ Brar Anansi, what ar matter ?” 
 Anansi say, ‘‘ Brar, da fleas dey bite me.” 
 When him tink Alligator gone asleep, 
 him put han’ again in de pot; him halla, 
 “Lahd!” Alligator halla out, say, “ Brar 
 Anansi, what matter wid you, dey mek 
 you bawl so?” “Brar Alligator, dey 
 fleas dey bite so; lahd! dey fleas full you 
 
ANANSI AND ALLIGATOR. 37 
 
 kitchen. rar, dey fleas dey are too 
 much, me can’t ’tand yar.” All dis time 
 him tief. Alligator Darter yearree [hear]. 
 When him finis’, him say, ‘ Good-by, 
 brar, me gwine, dey flea dey are too 
 much.” Alligator Darter yearree Anansi 
 say, so she broke out go see if Anansi 
 tief de egos. When she go look, she 
 no see one, so she go tell her fader. An’ 
 her fader get up an’ run arter Anansi. 
 But Anansi, dis time, was near de sea. 
 As Anansi go ’pon a wharf, yearree Alli- 
 gator blow shell. He say, “’Top dar, 
 fella Anansi!” As Anansi har so, him 
 see de boatman not far from him, so 
 him say, “Boatman, look yar, if you 
 
 tek me ‘crass de sea, I got a praperty, 
 
38 WEST INDIAN FOLK-LORE. 
 
 an’ me gib you half.” De boatman say, 
 Sone right.” Dem get in ar de boat, an’ 
 as dey get out ar sea, Anansi see Alligator 
 ‘pon de wharf. ‘“’Top,” Alligator halla out, 
 “’top dar, fella Anansi.” Den Anansi say, 
 “Pull fast, boatman, haby rain dere ‘pon 
 sea.’ As Alligator see dem tek no notice, 
 him t’row himself in de sea and swim 
 arter dem. But de boat was took quick, 
 an’ lef’ him. As de boat get ’pon oder 
 side, Anansi jump out "pon land an’ say 
 to de boatman, ‘Me go an’ tell my fader 
 dat ar ’tranger come.” De boatman said, 
 “A’ right.” So Anansi went in ar him 
 fader, him tell him his ’tory, an’ tell him 
 dat if de boatman or Alligator come, must 
 
 tell dem dat you dunno way [where] me 
 
ANANSI AND ALLIGATOR. 39 
 
 dey, because me gwine go clim’ a tree.” 
 As Anansi could go out, so in come de 
 boatman and ask Anansi fader way An- 
 ansi dey. Anansi fader say him dunno. 
 When de boatman gane, Anansi clim’ ’pon 
 anoder tree. Just as him go up him see 
 big Alligator dey come. As Alligator 
 come under de tree, so Anansi say, “‘ See 
 me yar, Brar Alligator?” Alligator say, 
 “Tf I don’t see Anansi, I never live in ar 
 house again, but live in ar water.” And 
 Alligator look and look; an’ dat de reason 
 why Alligator lb in ar water. End of 
 tory. 
 
BRAR DEAT’ (BROTHER DEATH). 
 
 NANSI always go "bout look fe vittles, 
 
 an’ one day he go tief one man 
 vittles; so car home de vittle an’ bile 
 dem—an’ he don’t gib de wife nor pic’ny 
 none. So when he eat it done, he gwine 
 back fe more. When he comin’ back, in 
 de way he halla out, “See, ketch dem 
 pieny, put him up ar loft, Brar Deat’ da 
 come.’ An’ de wife say, “What you 
 say? wash pot, put ar fire?” Anansi 
 say, “You no yearree [hear], yo darn’d 
 
 fool. Ketch dem pic’ny, put dem a loft, 
 
BRAR DEAT’ (BROTHER DEATH). 4] 
 
 Brar Deat’ da come.” So when Anansi 
 come in ar house, him wife tell him, ‘“‘ Me 
 tink say you telling me fe ter wash pot, 
 put ar fire.” Den Anansi go up in de 
 loft an’ find de pic’ny heng up from de 
 loft. One of de pic’ny drop fust; Brar 
 Deat’ him stan’ up an’ ketch him. De 
 tidder one den say dem han’ tired; him 
 drap down, an’ Brar Deat’ tek him. Den 
 de wife him han’ tired wid heng fum de 
 roof, an’ him fall down. Brar Deat’ tek 
 him. Meanwhile Anansi call out to Brar 
 Deat’, ‘ Look da yander, see one sumting 
 da come!” An’ whilst Brar Deat’ ben 
 lookin’, Anansi shripple down—gane—an’ 
 Brar Deat’ don’t ketch him ! 
 
 Jack man doord, I don’t want more. 
 
DE LADY AN’ DE BULL. 
 
 NE bull da court one n’young lady, but 
 de n’young lady don’t know say ar 
 
 bull, because he look like ar man. De 
 lady cook him brokfast fe de little boy 
 car out fe de genleman. When de lilly 
 boy go dere, he see him dere, pon n’yam 
 grass. Den de lilly ‘boy halla out, ‘‘ Come 
 to you, sah.” An’ de bull ’tretch hisself, 
 shub out his harns, an’ turn back into ar 
 somebody. Him come, him h’eat, lef’ de 
 
 plate den fe de boy c’ar dem home back. 
 
DE LADY AN’ DE BULL. 43 
 
 De boy go tell him missis, say, “‘ Missis, da 
 genleman da court you, ar no somebody, 
 ar cow.” An’ de lady beat de boy, an’ 
 commence cuss [scold] him. Nex’ day 
 again, de boy de brokfast c’ar, when de 
 pic’ny him see de bull feedin’ as ’trong as 
 eber. Den de boy hide behind tree, see 
 ar wat he da do. Den he halla fe him, 
 “Come to you, sah.” An’ de bull come 
 out, ’tretch hisself, so, dis way an’ dat, an’ 
 turn back in ar somebody; him h’eat 
 brokfast same as eber. Den de boy galouf 
 home, tell de missis, an’ she beat him an’ 
 dribe him away. De tird day, he car 
 brokfast again, an’ hide behind tree, so 
 watch him, and same ting go on. He 
 
 tell de missis again, but she don’t cuss 
 
44 WEST INDIAN FOLK-LORE. 
 
 him dis time. Ar nex week ar de 
 weddin’. So de weddin’ go on, an’ all 
 de king an’ genlemans was ax to dis 
 weddin’, So de lady was married de 
 day ; an’ when dey was gwine ’pon dinner- 
 table, de bull da ’pon table, an’ him cry 
 out for headach, an’ tek him _packet- 
 hankercher, put ‘pon de head so; an’ all 
 de while he dar cry fe de head, de harn 
 dey was growin’ out of de forehead 
 morn’more; an’ de boy took an’ sang a 
 song he did hear de bull sing when time 
 he was feedin’ in ar pasture. Den de 
 bull de ’pon Moo, an’ jump up, run ‘way, 
 an’ turn in big cow. Den all gellop after 
 him, ketch him, and kill him same time ; 
 
 an’ all de people blame de lady, say, “If 
 
DEOUADYS AN ADE BULL: 45 
 
 he ben tek counsel wid de boy, dat would 
 nebber have happen.” An’ de meanin’ is, 
 if anybody warn you ’pon anyting, you 
 mos always belieb dem ! 
 
 _Jack man doord, I don’t want more. 
 
DE SNEAKE AN’ DE KING'S DARTER. 
 
 NCE upon a time de* King hab two 
 beautiful darters ; so de Sneake was 
 passing one day an’ saw de darter, beau- 
 tiful white young lady; an’ he went away 
 an’ tole his fam’ly “bout her, and so he 
 said, ‘I gwine ter buy a dandy shuit; 
 I want a dandy trosers, a dandy jarket, 
 an’ a dandy white hat. I gwine ter buy 
 a dandy cayriage, an’ I gwine ter get a 
 dandy coachman ter dribe me ter dat 
 
 dandy yard where de King lib.” So he 
 
DE SNEAKE AN DE KINGS DARTER. 47 
 
 did; he got all dese tings, he went to 
 dis yard. An’ when de King saw him 
 comin’ he said, “ Here comes a beautiful 
 carriage!” An’ when it drove up to de 
 door de King said, ‘ Walk in!” an’ he 
 did, for he tink de Sneake ar man. An’ 
 de Sneake say, “All right.” An’ de lady 
 went and get a chair for him, and say 
 he such a handsome man, an’ she so glad 
 to receive him. He took de chair and 
 set down, an’ say to de fader, “I intend 
 marry you darter.” An’ de fader say, 
 “Won't you tek aff you hat?” An’ he 
 say, “No, I is a man what accustomed 
 to pain in my head.” So dey did not 
 bother him to ask him to tek it aff. So 
 
 de Sneake sit down an’ tark an’ tark an’ 
 
48 WEST INDIAN FOLK-LORE. 
 
 tark to de young lady, an’ ask if she 
 would accept of him to marry her. De 
 young lady say ‘‘ Yes,” an’ de Sneake say 
 to de King, “If you will accept of me 
 marry you darter, I promise to give her 
 a gold sovereign to-day.” An’ de young 
 lady say, “ But den I will have you tek 
 aff you gloves.” An’ de Sneake say, ‘“ No, 
 my lady, de cold will wrinkle my finger.” 
 De lady went into de room and say to 
 de King, “Fader, I don’t know what to 
 do; ’pose I marry dis young man, he won't 
 tek aff hat, he won’t tek aff gloves; what 
 mus’ I do?” An’ de fader say, “‘ Well, 
 IT hear he a very rich man; but what his 
 name?” De lady went out an’ ask him, 
 “What you name, please?” An’ de 
 Sneake say, ‘My name ar Great Brit- 
 
DE SNEAKE AN’ DE KINGS DARTER. 49 
 
 annia. (Dat de name de Sneake gib 
 himself.) So den de King set down his 
 name and say, “ You mek up you mind 
 marry him?” An’ de young lady say, 
 ieee, He say, “All right.” So when 
 de young lady went in de room she say 
 his name Great Britannia, “ But I fear 
 of him, for I want to see his head.” An’ 
 de fader ask Sneake to tek something to 
 drink. An’ he would not, an’ de fader 
 very glad to tink dat de genleman dat 
 gwine to tek his darter don’t drink. 
 When he fine de King would persuade 
 on him to drink, he say he go now, he 
 stay lang enough. An’ so he went away 
 an’ write de lady a beautiful lang letter 
 to say she mus’ prepare for de weddin’. 
 De day ob de weddin’ he sen’ de carriage 
 
 D 
 
50 WEST INDIAN FOLK-LORE. 
 
 for her, an’ best man an’ bridesmaid an’ 
 eberyting. He went to de church an’ 
 marry her, but he don’t take aff his hat. 
 He tell de parson same what he tell de 
 fader, how he troubled with pain in de 
 head. He marry de young lady, he tek 
 her home, an’ de papa say, “Kiss her, — 
 let me see.’ An’ when he kissed her 
 de hat drap aff, an’ de forked tongue 
 hang out, he didn’t hab no mouth to kiss 
 her, an’ de lady faint, an’ eberybody run. 
 De fader send an’ tek away de poor lady ; 
 an tek away de house, de beautiful house, 
 an’ eberyting from de Sneake, and den 
 shoot him dead. So dat why, when you 
 see a Sneake in ar house, ebery one shoot 
 
 it, because it a deceiving thing! 
 
THE STORY OF ANANSI AND TIGER. 
 
 HERE was a certain house in a town 
 dat Anansi and Tiger wan’ to visit. 
 When Anansi go, him tell de fambly ob 
 de house, say dat Tiger was his fader fus’ 
 riding-horse. So when Tiger go back, de 
 people den tell Tiger what Anansi say. 
 Well, Tiger say he must har from Anansi, 
 so Tiger go home an’ ask Anansi. Anansi 
 say dat ‘Im neber say so. Tiger say, 
 “Come, let us go to justice.” Anansi 
 
 opint ‘im a day. When de opinted day 
 
52 WEST INDIAN FOLK-LORE. 
 
 come, Anansi fallen sick. Tiger say, 
 “You mus’ go, Anansi.” He said, “ Brar 
 Tiger, I no able walk.” Tiger say, “I 
 will car’ you on my back.” Anansi said, 
 ‘“ Brar Tiger, you mus’ put dat lll’ some- 
 ting dem call saddle, dat when me gwine 
 to fall down me can ketch up.” Well, 
 Tiger put on saddle, im say again, “‘ You 
 mus’ put on dat lll’ someting dem call 
 bridle, dat when you gwine to fall down 
 me can ketch you up. ‘Tiger put on 
 bridle. He said again, ‘You mus’ mek 
 me put on dat lill’ someting dem call ’pur, 
 and mek me hole dat someting dem call 
 horsewip for dribe fly when dem come fe 
 pitch ’pon you.” Tiger say, “All you 
 
 requier vou shall hab, but go you mus’ 
 
THE STORY OF ANANSI AND TIGER. 53 
 
 to-day.” So Anansi put on eberyting he 
 wanted on Tiger, an’ then mounted on. 
 Just as Tiger want ter walk a lll’ fast 
 Anansi say, “Oh lahd! Brar Tiger, me 
 ober weak, me da go fall down,” untell 
 when he nare de town where ‘is frends 
 are. He put in whip an’ ’pur to Tiger 
 an’ sing out, ‘‘ What me tell you? me no 
 tell you, say Tiger is me fader fus’ riding- 
 horse?” an’ ‘im des ride up to de door an’ 
 tell a boy to tek ’is horse, an’ as "im gane 
 inside Tiger tek ’is walk ’trate way ter de 
 
 wood. End ob ’tory. 
 
THE SNEAKE (SNAKE). 
 
 ERE ben one Sneake; him disguise 
 himself into man ter go marry one 
 
 gal. Den when him go get married, him 
 go bara boot an’ hat an’ jarket’ an’ 
 trosers. Den him send fe any amount 0’ 
 ego fe mek cake, an’ when night come 
 him go suck out ebery bit ar de egg. 
 When him marry done, him gallang in 
 ar buggy wid him wife; den all de people 
 who him bara de clothes from, lift dem 
 
 voice ter halla arter him, ‘‘Sneake, gib 
 
THE SNEAKE (SNAKE). 55 
 
 me me boot den! Sneake, gib me me 
 hat an’ me trosers, gib me me jarket!” 
 Den him well an’ frighten tey [until] him 
 clothes drap aff, an’ him turn back into 
 a Sneake ; an’ de woman him frighten tey 
 him drap down dead ! 
 
 Jack man doord, I don’t want more. 
 
DE AFFASSIA. 
 
 ERE was once a man, who hab plenty 
 childern ; him was lazy to pieces, an’ 
 would no work ’pon estate, by [because] 
 him go strain hisself. So him go ar bush, 
 look for a ruinate ground to dig h’old yam. 
 When him bring home de yam, den he no 
 want de wife and pic’ny hab none. Den 
 dey ax him, “A what dey call dis yar 
 yam?” Him say, ‘Who don’t (know) 
 name, don’t (want) n’yam; who (knows) 
 
 name,(hab) n’yam.” But by de fambly don’t 
 
DE AFFASSIA, 57 
 
 know de name, he h’eat up hebery piece. 
 So de biggest son he go ar groun’ pick two 
 akra,foller de fader, an’rub split akra where 
 de ole man walk. Den he go hide hisself. 
 When de fader wid de breadkind he been 
 dig come, him two foots get ’way from 
 him—bram ! down fall fe de head de load 
 yam. “ahd! lahd! me affassia drap 
 from me!” Den de son yearree de word, 
 an’ run quick home tell de moder and 
 pie'ny what de n’yam name. So when de 
 fader him breadkind done, he say, ‘‘ Now, 
 who don’t name, doant nyam; and who 
 name, n’yam!” Den de whole fambly 
 bawl out, ‘‘ Affassia! affassia!” and mek 
 after de pot; so eat n’yam ebery bit, lef’ 
 
 none. 
 
GOAT AND ANANSI 
 
 NE day Dog and Goat been go walk, 
 rain ketch dem; so dem call da Brar 
 Anansi corner house. Dog stand sturdy, 
 but Goat mind rain, so da knock ’im foot 
 and say, “Baa! baa!” Den Anansi go 
 yearree dem. Anansi say da Goat and 
 ~ Dog, and say, ‘““O Breder, shame at you! 
 rain da come you lef’ you house, come 
 inside my house.” But Dog and Goat 
 know what a man Anansi is, dey ’fraid 
 of ‘im. Howsoeber, dem go to de door. 
 
 Anansi tek up him fiddle an’ begin to 
 
GOAT AND ANANSI. 59 
 
 play musick. Rain come; how a man 
 get meat? Dog say, “ Me ’pend pon me 
 four foot.” Goat say, “Me can’t run, but 
 me comy.” Anansi play so till ‘1m see 
 dey won't come in fe dance. Den ‘im 
 mek arter dem. Dem run till dem go to 
 one riber. Dog swim ober; Goat ’fraid 
 fe de water, im turn into white ’tone, 
 lie down by ar riber-side. Anansi come, 
 ‘imself was as much ’fraid fe de water. 
 Den Dog call to ‘im, “If you want me, 
 tek da white ’tone you see side of you, 
 fling it to knock me an’ break me foot, 
 an’ when de riber dried you come tek 
 me an’ gnaw me.” So Anansi tek de 
 white ‘tone an’ fling arter Dog fe knock 
 
 him down. But when ‘im fling ‘im, ‘im 
 
60 WEST INDIAN FOLK-LORE. 
 
 no know dat ar was n’young Goat. Goat 
 drap t’oder side. Goat say, ‘ You want 
 break me neck.” Anansi say, “ Lahd! 
 look how me trow ’way meat!” But 
 when de riber dry Anansi follow dem. 
 By dis time Dog get cold, so ‘im gone 
 7ome. But Goat hab craving, break big 
 bundle of green bush, cover ‘imself wid 
 da. Anansi come, see de green bush da 
 walkin’, an’ say, ‘“ Lahd! me neber see 
 tree walk!” so ‘im follow till Goat get 
 ‘most to im house. Den Goat turn roun’, 
 see “im. Den Goat mek a run. So 
 Anansi find out, say, “Da Goat!” Den 
 ‘im fling ‘im cutlass an’ cut off piece ob 
 Goat tail, and dat mek you see why Goat 
 hab ’tump ob tail. 
 
ANANSI, HIS WIFE, AND TIGER, 
 
 NANSI he go find vittles fe him famly 
 
 in ar wood. Tiger fill him bag wid 
 
 ashes an’ bore hole in de bag. Anansi 
 say, “Brar Tiger, mind me wife an’ me 
 children tey me come back.” Tiger say, 
 “Me will mind you house well.” Den 
 when him go ‘long, de ashes dey drap out. 
 Den Tiger follow Anansi, begin to ketch 
 wild beasts in ar de wood. An’ when 
 him see Tiger him clim’ one tree, lef’ de 
 
 bag on ar ground. Den Tiger say, “ Hi, 
 
62 WEST INDIAN FOLK-LORE, 
 
 Brar Anansi, me tink you say you go 
 kill wild beast an’ wild meat, an’ what 
 mek you trick so?” Den Anansi vex 
 an’ come down aff de tree, so him an’ 
 Tiger ketch fight, an’ Tiger kill Anansi. 
 So him cut him up and tek him to him 
 wife, an’ tell im dis ar de wild meat, an’ 
 dat Anansi ’way in wood. An’ all de 
 
 while it Anansi cut up in bag. 
 
THE STORY ABOUT RAT AND CAT. 
 
 AT and Cat was very good fren’, but 
 wheneber de Cat put down anyting 
 
 an gone out, de Rat gnaw ‘im. An’ 
 when de Cat come home an’ ax him ’bout 
 it, “im say ‘im no know; so, till one day 
 dem was invited to a dance. So dem 
 propose fe dance, an’ dem bile big pot 
 full of rice to have dinner before dem 
 go. So when dinner ready dem gnaw | 
 "im, an’ lef’ some ob de rice fe to-morrer. 
 Den dress demself an’ away fe de dance. 
 
 When dem get a good way from de house 
 
64 WEST INDIAN FOLK-LORE. 
 
 Rat say, ‘‘Lahd! Breder Puss, me lef’ 
 me pus [purse| wid de house.” Puss say, 
 ‘“No min’, me ab enuf money for we 
 
 1) 
 
 two. But Rat say, ‘No, ebery man 
 mus’ depen’ pon you own packet [ pocket.” 
 But by dis time ‘im ab a desire fe go 
 onaw in de rice. So de feller turn back 
 an’ tell ‘im fren’ fe wait fe ‘im. Puss 
 wait and wait tey ar no seem da come. 
 ‘“T will tek a bet Rat ar gone gnawin’ 
 de rice we lef’.” Den Puss turn back, 
 den im har de Rat in ar de pot, “crep, 
 crep, crep.” Pus jus’ walk up softly an’ lay 
 out in de barn. Den de Rat say, ‘“ No, 
 man, dat is not fair.” Puss say, ‘‘ Quite 
 fair enuf.” So dat mek you see Puss an’ 
 
 Rat agree till dis de way ob de ting. 
 
ANANSI, TIGER, AND GOAT. 
 
 NCE ‘pon a time Anansi, Tiger, an’ 
 Goat, with her little ones, lib to- 
 gether in ar house. Anansi lived up in 
 ar roof, Tiger inside, an’ Goat under de 
 house. At last, howeber, dey quarrel. 
 Tiger say Anansi mek dust, an’ Goat 
 mek dirt, he want de house all to himself. 
 Den Goat say she will go ‘way, an’ 
 Anansi say he will go too. So dey 
 went, an’ presently dey har Tiger comin’ 
 arter dem, Grum! grum! grum! An’ 
 
 E 
 
66 WEST INDIAN FOLK-LORE. 
 
 dey come to a riber where ar great many 
 white ‘tones lay on de bank and in ar 
 de water. Anansi change Goat an’ her 
 little ones into ’tones an’ t’row dem ’crass 
 to de oder side. An’ soon as ’tone touch 
 de ground, it turn in ar goat again an’ 
 run mm ar de bush. But Tiger come 
 nearer and nearer, Grum! grum! grum! 
 Jes’ as Anansi t’row de last ’tone Tiger 
 come up. When he see he no get Goat he 
 very angry, an’ say he eat Anansi. But 
 Anansi t’row him thread ’crass de riber 
 same as a bridge an’ so get away, an’ de 
 
 Tiger was lef’—Grum! grum! grum! 
 
‘ISNVNV dO LNOVH FHL 
 
GARSHAN BULL. 
 
 NE little boy going to school ebery 
 day, he going har dem say, “Oh, 
 
 it mek so harm!” When he gone home 
 he tell his grandma, so de grandma roast 
 three Johnny cake, gib him in one bag. 
 Den she tell him, say he must go to one 
 place where de Garshan Bull hb. So he 
 go up a tree and holla, ‘Garshan Bull, 
 Garshan!” Den de Garshan stop, say, 
 “T har a voice I neber har yet.” Den ‘im 
 
 come wid run an’ run slick ’pon tree, tey 
 
68 WEST INDIAN FOLK-LORE. 
 
 it nearly fall down on ar ground. Den 
 de boy tek one of de Johnny cakes an’ 
 stick ’pon bull arm; so de arm pop off, 
 an’ de Garshan Bull mad, an’ buck ’pon 
 tree. De boy tek de oder Johnny cake, 
 stick ‘pon de oder arm, pop off all two, 
 and bull lef’ wid no arm; den he begin 
 fight de tree again. De boy tek out de 
 oder Johnny cake, lef’ none. Den he 
 knock him in de back of him neck, kill 
 him dead. De boy come down off ar 
 tree, cut off him golden tongue, an’ car’ 
 it to de king. When he send it up, de 
 king say, “Who kill de Garshan Bull 
 shall marry my darter.” So dis boy 
 him destroy de bad bull who kill plenty 
 black people. So he married de king’s 
 
GARSHAN BULL. 69 
 
 darter, and de Anansi pick up all de little 
 bits and say him kill de bull, an’ de debbel 
 run away wid de ’Nansi. 
 
 Jack man doora, I don’t want more. 
 
DE LADY AN’ DE LITTLE DOGGIE. 
 
 NCE ’pon a time a genelman was in 
 love with two sisters, an’ he married 
 
 one; an’ afterwards dey had a lil’ baby. 
 De wife complain of being sick one day, so 
 she went to bed. When she wake nex’ 
 marnin’ her sister tole her dey was a 
 demon in de well, an’ she went down 
 in de well. But dere was no demon. 
 But as she was comin’ up back, de sister 
 push her down. Den her sister went 
 
 in ar de house an’ tek charge of de hus- 
 
DESLADY AN DEVLITTLE DOGGIE. 71 
 
 ban’ an’ de baby. Arter a Iill’ time, de 
 husban’ say, “‘Gib me some tea;” an’ she 
 went an’ put laud’num in it, an’ gib to 
 de husban’. So him soon fall asleep. 
 Arter a time, when de night fall, de 
 wife ghost come up out ar de well. An’ 
 she went in de house an’ ring de bell, an’ 
 a little doggie open de do’, an’ she say [or 
 rather sang as follows | :— 
 
 To be drawled slowly. 
 a ee ee = ee 
 
 ‘“Where is my husband, my little dog - gie?” 
 
 —————————— 
 SS See aero 
 
 ‘‘Up-stairs a-sleep, my fair la - dye,”—etc. 
 
 “ Where is my sister, my little doggie?” 
 “‘ Up-stairs asleep, my fair ladye.” 
 
 [And always to the same tune. | 
 
72 WEST INDIAN FOLK-LORE. 
 
 «¢ Where is my baby, my little doggie?” 
 
 “ Up-stairs asleep, my fair ladye.” 
 
 “Will you bring me my baby, my little doggie?” 
 “‘Oh yes, to please you, my fair ladye!” 
 
 ‘“‘ Will you bring me de bath, my little doggie?” 
 ‘Oh yes, to please you, my fair ladye!” 
 
 ‘¢ Will you bring me de soap, my little doggie?” 
 “Oh yes, to please you, my fair ladye!” 
 
 “Will you bring me de towel, my little doggie?” 
 ‘Oh yes, to please you, my fair ladye!” 
 
 ‘Will you bring me de powder, my little doggie?” 
 ‘Oh yes, to please you, my fair ladye!” 
 
 “Will you tek back de tings, my little doggie?” 
 “Oh yes, to please you, my fair ladye!” 
 
 Last time. 
 
 Jie aa ieee Leann Macsaeea 
 a ———— 
 ‘Good - night to you, my little dog- gie,” 
 sista ie nianer ee  eaeae Besesiiae See ae Saas 
 
 SSS FeEne Poel Sea eae wk peeccrone 
 = SS 
 
 *‘Good-night to you, my fair la - dye.” 
 
 An’ she go ’way jes’ as de day break. 
 
DE KING AND DE PEAFOWL. 
 
 NE day once ’pon a time de king hab 
 
 a party ob ladies an’ genelmen. An’ 
 
 arter de party de band was ter come an’ 
 play. But de fiddler was took sick, so dey 
 could not dance. So de king said, “I 
 am gwine ter sen’ ober ter my friens an’ 
 ask dem ter come an’ sing.” So he sen’, 
 an’ de genelman say he very glad, an’ his 
 famly was Dog, Peafowl, and Tiger. So he 
 sen’ Missis Duck fus, an’ dey said, ‘‘ Can 
 
 you sing? let me har you voice.” Dey put 
 
74 WEST INDIAN FOLK-LORE. 
 
 her in a rocking-chair ’pon de platform, an’ 
 de Duck say, ‘“‘ Hahh! hahh!” an’ den he 
 say, ‘ Dat will nat do. Sen’ for Dog.” An’ 
 dey took her an’ put her in a coop, an’ all 
 de ducks come round an’ ask to have her 
 let out, an’ say, “ Hahh! hahh! hahh!” 
 , an’ tole him dat if he 
 
 fin’ a salt beef-bone in ar de road, he mus’ 
 
 Den dey sen’ for Dog 
 not pick it up, by it mek him rough in his 
 troat. So Dog did not pick it up, but pass 
 it ; but arter when he go, his voice did not 
 suit neither. Dey tole Dog to sing, an’ 
 he said, “ How! how! how!” An’ de king 
 say, “ Don’t wan’ a man ter ask me how— 
 he will not do.” Dey saw a fowl coming, 
 —‘Can you sing?” An’ de fowl say 
 “Kal ka! ka!” an’ dey said, “Dat will 
 
DE KING AND DE PHAFOWTL. 75 
 
 not do,” an’ dribe de fowl ’way. De cock 
 came in arter, an’ de cock said, ‘‘ Coqueri- 
 cou, an’ dey said, “De king don’ wan’ 
 ter know when de daylight, sah!” De 
 kino* came in an’ said, ‘All dese people 
 cannot sing, dey will not do.” Dey sen’ 
 Tiger, an’ dey said, “ You must not pick 
 up a big salt beef-bone in ar de road.” 
 An’ de Tiger did pick it up, an’ Tiger 
 could not sing, an’ said, “Grum! grum! 
 - grum!” ‘Dat voice is wuss dan all, 
 dat voice will not:do.” Den sen’ aff for 
 Peafowl, but Peafowl would not go. Dey 
 went back ter dinner, all de people went 
 back to dinner, an’ when dey were at 
 dinner in a large house, de Peafowl came 
 
 in an’ sing— 
 
76 WEST INDIAN FOLK-LORE. 
 
 SSS ee 
 
 - kale an’ ivry, Mi - kale an’ ivry, Mi- 
 
 kale an’ ivry, Mi-kale an’ ivry, Why-ou, why - ou, 
 
 % 
 aS SSSI 
 
 why - ou, why -ou, why-ou wife gwine ter die. 
 
 Den de genelmen jump up and say, 
 ‘Hullo! what dat?” De king say, “Sing 
 again, my pritty lll’ bird,” an’ den de Pea- 
 fowl sang, (as before) ‘ Mikale an’ iv’ry, 
 Mikale an’ ivry, Mikale an’ iv’ry, Mikale 
 an’ ivry, whyou, whyou, whyou, whyou, 
 whyou wife gwine ter die.” “ What dat? 
 what dat? what dat?” dey say, an’ de 
 bird den settin’ on de tree sing, “ Mikale 
 an’ ivry, &c. De king say, “Sing again, 
 
DE KING AND DE PHAFOWL. 77 
 
 —_ 
 
 you pritty lll’ bird. You dress shall be 
 tipped with blue, an’ you shall hab a 
 beautiful field of corn in a present.” An’ 
 de bird sang again better when he har 
 dat, *‘ Mikale an’ ivry, Mikale an’ iv’ry, 
 Mikale an’ iv'ry, Mikale an’ iv’ry, whyou, 
 whyou, whyou, whyou, whyou wife gwine 
 ter die.” De king jump up an’ call de 
 buggy, an’ jomp in an’ tek de Peafowl 
 in, an’ all de horses was richly decked, 
 an’ all de company very fine, dey dribe 
 de Peafowl home, an’ dat why de Peafowl 
 hab such a beautiful dress. 
 
 Jack man doora, I don’t want more. 
 
Beas bell 
 
 (By KIND PERMISSION OF SIR GEORGE WEBBE DaSsENT, D.C.L.) 
 
. 
 
‘voIVNv[ ‘SNNV LS—NMOL NVIGNI LSM V NI LAAULS 
 
THE LION, GOAT, AND BABOON. 
 
 LION had a Goat for his wife. One 
 
 day Goat went out to market, and 
 while she was gone, Lion went out in the 
 wood, where he met with Baboon, who 
 made friends with Lion, for fear he would 
 eat him, and asked him to go home with 
 him; but the Lion thought it would be 
 a good chance, so he asked Baboon to go 
 home with him and see his little ones. 
 When they got home, Baboon said to 
 the Lion, “‘ Why, you have got plenty of 
 
 F 
 
82 WEST INDIAN FOLK-LORE. 
 
 little goats here.” The Lion said, ‘“ Yes, 
 they are my children.” So the Baboon 
 “said, “If they are, they are lhttle goats, 
 and they are very good meat.” So the 
 Lion said,.‘‘ Don’t make a noise; their 
 mother will come presently, and we will 
 see.” So these little goats took no notice, 
 but went out to meet their mother, and 
 told her what had passed. Their mother 
 said to them, ‘‘Go back, take no notice, 
 and I shall come home presently and do 
 for him.” So she went and bought some 
 molasses, and took it home with her. 
 The Lion said, “Are you come? what 
 news?” ‘“QOh!” she said, ‘good news; 
 taste here.” He tasted, and said, “It’s 
 very good—-it’s honey.” And she said, 
 
THE LION, GOAT, AND BABOON. 83 
 
 “No, it’s Baboon’s blood; they have been 
 killing one to-day, the blood is running 
 in the street, and every one is carrying 
 it away.” ‘The Lion said, “ Hush! there 
 is one in the house, and we shall have 
 fmm) At this the Baboon rushed off, 
 and when they looked for him he was 
 ‘gone, and never came near them again, 
 
 which saved the little goats’ lives. 
 
THE LITTLE CHILD AND THE 
 PUMPKIN-TREE. 
 
 HERE was once a poor widow who 
 had six children. One day when 
 
 she was going out to look for something 
 to eat, for she was very poor, she met 
 an old man sitting by the river-side. He 
 said to her, ‘Good morning.” And she 
 answered, ‘“‘Good morning, father.” He 
 said to her, “ Will you wash my head?” 
 She said she would; so she washed it, 
 
 and when she was going away, he gave 
 
LITTLE CHILD AND THH PUMPKIN-TREE. 85 
 
 her a “‘stampee ” (a small coin), and told 
 her to go a certain distance, and she 
 would see a large tree full of pumpkins ; 
 she was then to dig a hole at the root 
 of the tree and bury the money, and 
 when she had done so, she was to call 
 for as many pumpkins as she liked, and 
 she should have them. So the woman 
 went and did as she was told, and she 
 called for six pumpkins, one for each 
 child, and six came down, and she carried 
 them home. And now they always had 
 pumpkins enough to eat, for whenever 
 they wanted any, the woman had only 
 to go to the tree and call, and they had 
 as many as they hked. One morning 
 
 when she got up she found a little baby 
 
86 WEST INDIAN FOLK-LORE. 
 
 before the door, so she took it up, and 
 carried it in, and took care of it. Every 
 day she went out, but in the morning 
 she boiled enough pumpkin to serve the 
 children all day. One day when she 
 came back she found the food was all 
 gone. So she scolded her children and 
 beat them for eating ijvallsup lhe 
 told her they had not taken any—that 
 it was the baby; but she would not 
 believe them, and said, “ How could a 
 little baby get up and help itself?” 
 But the children still persisted it was 
 the baby. So one day when she was 
 going out, she put some pumpkin in a 
 calabash, and set a trap over it. When 
 
 she was gone, the baby got up as usual 
 
LITTLE CHILD AND THE PUMPKIN-TREE. 87 
 
 to eat the food, and got its head fastened 
 in the trap, so that it could not get out, 
 and began knocking its head about, and 
 crying out, “Oh, do loose me! for that 
 woman will kill me when she comes back.” 
 When the woman came in, she found the 
 baby fastened in the trap, so she beat 
 it well, and turned it out of doors, and 
 begged her children’s pardon for having 
 wronged them. Then after she turned 
 the baby out, he changed into a great 
 big man, and went to the river, where 
 he saw the old man sitting by the river- 
 side, who asked him to wash his head, 
 as he had asked the poor woman. But 
 the man said, “ No, he would not wash 
 his dirty head;” and so he wished the 
 
88 WEST INDIAN FOLK-LORE. 
 
 old man good-bye. Then the old man 
 asked him if he would have a pumpkin, 
 to which he said, “Yes;” and the old 
 man told him to go on till he saw a 
 large tree with plenty of pumpkins on 
 it, and then he must ask for one. So 
 he went on till he got to the tree, and 
 the pumpkins looked so nice, he could 
 not be satisfied with one. So he called 
 out, “Ten pumpkins come down,” and 
 the ten pumpkins fell on him and crushed 
 
 him, 
 
THE KING AND THE ANT’S TREE. 
 
 HERE was once a king who had a very 
 beautiful daughter, and he said who- 
 
 ever would cut down an ant’s tree he 
 had in his kingdom, without brushing off 
 the ants, should. marry his daughter. 
 Now a great many came and tried, but 
 no one could do it; for the ants fell out 
 upon them and stung them, and they 
 were forced to brush them off. There was 
 always some one watching to see if they 
 brushed the ants off. Then Anansi went, 
 
90 WEST INDIAN FOLK-LORE. 
 
 and the king’s son was set to watch him. 
 When they showed him the tree, he 
 said, ‘Why, that’s nothing; I know I 
 can do that.” So they gave him the 
 axe, and he began to hew; but each blow 
 he gave the tree he shook himself, and 
 brushed, saying all the while, “ Did you 
 see me do that? I suppose you think 
 I am brushing myself, but I am _ not.” 
 And so he went on till he had cut down 
 the tree. But the boy thought he was 
 only pretending to brush himself all the 
 time, and the king was obliged to give 
 
 him his daughter. 
 
THE GIRL AND THE FISH. 
 
 HERE was once a girl who used to 
 go to the river to fetch water, but 
 when she went she was never in a hurry 
 to come back, but stayed so long that 
 they made up their minds to watch her. 
 So one day they followed her to the river, 
 and found, when she got there, she said 
 something [the reciter forgets the words]. 
 And a fish came up and talked to her; - 
 and she did not like to leave it, for it 
 
 was her sweetheart. So they went next 
 
92 WEST INDIAN FOLK-LORE. 
 
 day to the river to see if the fish would 
 come up; for they remembered what the 
 girl said, and used the same words. 
 Then up came the fish immediately, and 
 they caught it and took it home, and 
 cooked it for dinner; and a part they 
 set by, and gave it to the girl when she 
 came in. Whilst she was eating, a voice 
 said, ‘Do you know what you are eat- 
 ing? J am he you have so often talked 
 with. If you look in the pig’s tub, you 
 will see my heart.” Then the voice told 
 her to take the heart and wrap it up in 
 a handkerchief, and carry it to the river. 
 When she got to the river she would see 
 three stones in the water; she was to 
 stand on the middle stone and dip the 
 
THE GIRL AND THE FISH. 93 
 
 handkerchief three times in the water. 
 All this she did, syage eae sank suddenly 
 and was carried down to a beautiful place, 
 where she found her lover, changed from 
 a fish into his proper form, and she lived 
 there happily with him for ever. And this 
 is the reason why there are mermaids in 
 
 the water. 
 
THE DANCING GANG. 
 
 WATER- CARRIER once went to 
 
 the river to fetch water. She 
 dipped in her calabash and brought out 
 a crayfish. The crayfish began beating 
 his claws on the calabash, and played 
 such a beautiful tune that the girl began 
 dancing and could not stop. The driver 
 of the gang wondered why she did not 
 come, and sent another to see after her. 
 When she came, she too. began to dance 
 
 when she heard the music and the cray- 
 
THE DANCING GANG, 95 
 
 fish singing, “ Vaitsi, vaitsi, O sulli van?” 
 “Stay for us, stay for us, how long will 
 you stay for us?” Then the driver sent 
 another and another, till he had sent the 
 whole gang. At last he went himself, 
 and when he found the whole gang danc- 
 ing, he too began to dance; and they 
 all danced till night, when the crayfish 
 went back into the water; and if they 
 haven’t done dancing, they are dancing 
 still. 
 
ANANSI AND BABOON. 
 
 NANSI and Baboon were disputing 
 one day which was fattest. Anansi 
 
 said he was sure he was fat, but Baboon 
 declared he was fatter. Then Anansi 
 proposed that they should prove mee eo) 
 they made a fire, and agreed that they 
 should hang up before it and see which 
 would drop most fat. Then Baboon hung 
 up Anansi first, but no fat dropped. Then 
 Anansi hung up Baboon, and very soon 
 
 the fat began to drop, which smelt so good 
 
ANANSI AND BABOON. 97 
 
 that Anansi cut a slice out of Baboon 
 and said, ‘‘Oh, Brother Baboon, you fat 
 for true.” But Baboon didn’t speak. So 
 Anansi said, “ Well, speak or not speak, 
 Pll eat you every bit to-day,” which he 
 really did. But when he had eaten up 
 all Baboon, the bits joined themselves 
 together in his stomach, and began to 
 pull him about so much that he had no 
 rest, and was obliged to go to a doctor. 
 The doctor told him not to eat anything 
 for some days, then he was to get a ripe 
 banana and hold it to his mouth. When 
 the Baboon, who would be hungry, smelt 
 the banana, he would be sure to run up 
 to eat it, and so he would run out of his 
 mouth. So Anansi starved himself, and 
 
 G 
 
98 WEST INDIAN FOLK-LORE. 
 
 got the banana, and did as the doctor 
 told him ; but when he put the banana to 
 his mouth, he was so hungry he couldn’t 
 help eating it. So he didn’t get rid of 
 the Baboon, which went on pulling him 
 about till he was obliged to go back to 
 the doctor, who told him he would soon 
 cure him; and he took the banana and 
 held it to Anansi’s mouth, and very soon 
 the Baboon jumped up to catch it, and 
 ran out of his mouth, and Anansi was 
 glad to get rid of him. And Baboons to 
 
 this very day like bananas. 
 
ANANSI AND THE LION. 
 
 NANSI planned a scheme. He went 
 
 to town and bought ever so many 
 firkins of fat, and ever so many sacks, and 
 ever so many balls of string, and a very big 
 frying-pan ; then he went to the bay and 
 blew a shell, and called the head fish in the 
 sea, “‘Green Eel,” to him. Then he said to 
 the fish, ‘The king sends me to tell you 
 that you must bring all the fish on shore, 
 for he wants to give them new life.” So 
 
 Green Eel said he would, and went to call 
 
100 WEST INDIAN FOLK-LORE. 
 
 them. Meanwhile Anansi lighted a fire, 
 and took out some of the fat, and got his 
 frying-pan ready, and as fast as the fish 
 came out of the water he caught them 
 and put them into the frying-pan; and 
 so he did with all of them until he got 
 to the head fish, who was so slippery 
 he could not hold him, and he got back 
 again into the water. When Anansi had 
 fried all the fish, he put them into the 
 sacks, and took the sacks on his back and 
 set off to the mountains. He had not 
 gone very far before he met Lion, and 
 Lion said to him, ‘‘ Well, Brother Anansi, 
 where have you been? I have not seen 
 you a long time.” Anansi said, ‘‘I have 
 
 been travelling about.” ‘But what have 
 
ANANSI AND THE LION. 101 
 
 you got there?” said the Lion. “Oh, I 
 have got my mother’s bones; she has been 
 dead these forty-seven years, and they say 
 I must not keep her here, so I am tak- 
 ing her up into the middle of the moun- 
 tains to bury her.” Then they parted. 
 After he had gone a little way the Lion 
 said, “I know that Anansi is a great 
 rogue; I daresay he has got something 
 there that he doesn’t want me to see, 
 and I will just follow him.” But he took 
 care not to let Anansi see him. Now 
 when Anansi got into the wood he set 
 his sacks down, and took one fish out 
 and began to eat; then a fly came, and 
 Anansi said, “I cannot eat any more, for 
 
 there is some one near.” So he tied the 
 
102 WEST INDIAN FOLK-LORE. 
 
 sacks up, and went on farther into the 
 mountains, where he set his sacks down 
 and took out two fish, which he ate; and 
 no fly came, he said, ‘‘ There is no one 
 near.” So he took out more fish. But 
 when he had eaten about half-a-dozen, 
 the Lion came up and said, “ Well, 
 Brother Anansi, a pretty tale you have 
 ' told me.” “Oh, Brother Lion, I am so 
 glad you have come; never mind what 
 tale I have told you, but come and sit 
 down—it was only my fun.” So Lion sat 
 down and began to eat; but before Anansi 
 had eaten two fish, Lion had emptied one 
 of the sacks. Then said Anansi to himself, 
 ‘Greedy fellow, eating up all my fish.” 
 ‘What do you say, sir?” “TI only said 
 
ANANSI AND THE LION. 103 
 
 you do not eat half fast enough,” for he 
 was afraid the Lion would eat him up. 
 Then they went on eating; but Anansi 
 wanted to revenge himself, and he said 
 to the Lion, ‘ Which of us do you think 
 is the strongest?” The Lion said, “ Why, 
 I am, of course.” Then Anansi said, ‘‘ We 
 will tie one another to the tree, and we 
 shall see which is the strongest.” Now 
 they agreed that the Lion should tie 
 Anansi first, and he tied him with some 
 very fine string, and did not tie him tight. 
 Anansi twisted himself about two or three 
 times, and the string broke. Then it was 
 Anansi’s turn to tie the Lion, and he took 
 some very strong cord. The Lion said, 
 
 “You must not tie me tight, for I did not 
 
104 WEST INDIAN FOLK-LORE. 
 
 tie you tight.” And Anansi said, “ Oh, no! 
 to be sure I will not.” But he tied him 
 as tight as ever he could, and then told 
 him to try and get loose. The Lion tried 
 and tried in vain—he could not get loose. 
 Then Anansi thought, “Now is my chance;” 
 so he got a big stick and beat him, and 
 then went away and left him, for he was 
 afraid to loose him lest he should kill him. 
 
 Now there was a woman called Miss 
 Nancy, who was going out one morning 
 to get some “‘callalou” [spinach] in the 
 wood, and as she was going she heard 
 some one say, ‘Good morning, Miss 
 Nancy.” She could not tell who spoke 
 to her, but she looked where the voice 
 
 came from, and saw the Lion tied to the 
 
ANANSI AND THE LION. 105 
 
 tree. “Good morning, Mr Lion; what are 
 you doing there?” He said, ‘It is all 
 that fellow Anansi, who has tied me to 
 the tree; but will you loose me?” But 
 she said, “No; for I am afraid, if I do, 
 you will kill me.” But he gave her his 
 word he would not; still she could not 
 trust him: but he begged her again and 
 again, and said, “ Well, if I do try to eat 
 you, I hope all the trees will call out 
 shame upon me.” So at last she con- 
 sented. But she had no sooner loosed him 
 than he came up to her to eat her, for he 
 had been so many days without food that 
 he was quite ravenous; but the trees im- 
 mediately called out ‘“‘Shame,” and so he 
 
 could not eat her. Then she went away 
 
106 WEST INDIAN FOLK-LORE. 
 
 as fast as she could, and the Lion found 
 his way home. When Lion got home, he 
 told his wife and children all that had hap- 
 pened to him, and how Miss Nancy had 
 saved his life; so they said they would 
 have a great dinner, and ask Miss Nancy. 
 Now, when Anansi heard of it, he wanted 
 to go to the dinner; so he went to Miss 
 Nancy and said she must take him with 
 her as her child, but she said ‘ No.” 
 Then he said, “I can turn myself into 
 quite a little child, and then you can take 
 me;” and at last she said ‘‘ Yes;” and he 
 told her, when she was asked what pap 
 her baby ate, she must be sure to tell 
 them it did not eat pap, but the same 
 
 food as every one else ; and so they went, 
 
ANANSI AND THE LION. 107 
 
 and had a very good dinner, and set off 
 home again. But somehow one of the 
 Lion’s sons fancied that all was not right, 
 and he told his father he was sure it was 
 Anansi; and the Lion set out after him. 
 Now as they were going along, before the 
 Lion got up to them Anansi begged Miss 
 Nancy to put him down that he might 
 run, which he did, and he got away and 
 ran along the wood, and the Lion ran 
 after him. When he found the Lion was 
 overtaking him, he turned himself into an 
 old man with a bundle of wood on his 
 head; and when the Lion got up to him, 
 he said, “Good morning, Mr Lion ;” and 
 the Lion said, ‘Good morning, old gen- 
 tleman.” Then the old man said, “ What 
 
108 WEST INDIAN FOLK-LORE. 
 
 are you afternow?” And the Lion asked 
 if he had seen Anansi pass that way, but 
 the old man said, ‘‘No; that fellow An- 
 ansi is alway meddling with some one; 
 what mischief has he been up to now?” 
 Then the Lion told him, but the old man 
 said it was no use to follow him any more, 
 for he would never catch him; and so the 
 Lion wished him good day, and turned 
 
 and went home again. 
 
ANANSI AND QUANQUA. 
 
 UANQUA was a very clever fellow, 
 and he had a large house full of all 
 sorts of meat. But you must know, he 
 had a way of saying “Quan? qua?” (how ? 
 what ?) when any one asked him anything, 
 and so they called him ‘‘Quanqua.” One ~ 
 day when he was out, he met Atoukama, 
 Anansi’s wife, who was going along driv- 
 ing an ox, but the ox would not walk, 
 so Atoukama asked Quanqua to help 
 her; and they got on pretty well till 
 
110 WEST INDIAN FOLK-LORE. — 
 
 they came to a river, when the ox would 
 not cross through the water. Then Atou- 
 kama called to Quanqua to drive the ox 
 across, but all she could get out of him 
 was, “Quan? qua? Quan? qua?” At 
 last she said, “Oh, you stupid fellow, 
 youre no good; stop here and mind the 
 ox, while I go and get help to drive him 
 across.’ So off she went to fetch Anansi. 
 As soon as Atoukama was gone away, 
 Quanqua killed the ox, and hid it all 
 away where Anansi should not see it; 
 but first he cut off the tail, then he dug 
 a hole near the river-side, and stuck the 
 tail partly in, leaving out the tip. When 
 he saw Anansi coming, he caught hold 
 
 of the tail, pretending to tug at it as if he 
 
ANANSI AND QUANQUA. | 111 
 
 were pulling the ox out of the hole. 
 Anansi, seeing this, ran up as fast as 
 he could, and tugging at the tail with 
 all his might, fell over into the river; 
 but he still had hold of the tail, and 
 contrived to get across the water, when 
 he called out to Quanqua, “You idle fellow, 
 you couldn't take care of the ox, so you 
 shan’'t have a bit of the tail,” and then 
 on he went. When he was gone quite 
 out of sight, Quanqua took the ox home, 
 and made a very good dinner. Next 
 day he went to Anansi’s house, and said 
 Anansi must give him some of the tail, 
 for he had got plenty of yams, but he 
 had no meat. Then they agreed to cook 
 their pot together. Quanqua was to put 
 
112 WEST INDIAN FOLK-LORE. 
 
 in white yams, and Anansi the tail and 
 red yams. When they came to put the 
 yams in, Quanqua put in a great many 
 white yams, but Anansi only put in 
 one little red cush-cush yam. Quanqua 
 asked him if that little yam would be 
 enough ; he said, “Oh, plenty, for I don’t 
 eat much.” When the pot boiled, they 
 uncovered it, and sat down to eat their 
 shares, but they couldn’t find any white 
 yams at all—the little red one had turned 
 them all red. So Anansi claimed them 
 all, and Quanqua was glad to take what 
 Anansi would give him. Now, when they 
 had done eating, they said they would 
 try which could bear heat best; so they 
 
 heated two irons, and Anansi was to try 
 
ANANSI AND QUANQUA. 113 
 
 first on Quanqua; but he made so many 
 attempts that the iron got cold before he 
 got near him. Then it was Quanqua’s 
 turn, and he pulled the iron out of the 
 fire and poked it right down Anansi’s 
 throat. 
 
THE BROTHER AND HIS SISTERS. 
 
 dames were once upon a time three 
 sisters and a brother. The sisters 
 were all proud, and one was very beauti- 
 ful, and she did not like her little brother, 
 “because,” she said, “he was dirty.” Now 
 this beautiful sister was to be married, 
 and the brother begged their mother not 
 to let her marry, as he was sure the man 
 would kill her, for he knew his house was 
 full of bones. So the mother told her 
 daughter, but she would not believe it, 
 
Pie poOl ih hea N IU eH ISe SISTERS... 115 
 
 and said she would not listen to any- 
 thing that such a dirty little scrub said ; 
 and so she was married. Now it was 
 agreed that one sister was to remain 
 with their mother, and the other was to 
 go with the bride; and so they set out on 
 their way. When they got to the beach, 
 the husband picked up a beautiful tortoise- 
 shell comb, which he gave to his bride. 
 Then they got into his boat, and rowed 
 away over the sea. And when they 
 reached their home, they were so sur- 
 prised to see their little brother, for the 
 comb had turned into their brother. They 
 were not at all glad to see him, and the 
 husband thought to himself he would kill 
 him without telling his wife. When night 
 
116 WEST INDIAN FOLK-LORE. 
 
 came the boy told the husband that at 
 home his mother always put him to sleep 
 in the blacksmith’s shop, and so the hus- 
 band said he should sleep in the smithy. 
 In the middle of the night the man got 
 up, intending to kill them all, and went 
 to his shop to get his irons ready; but 
 the boy jumped up as soon as he went 
 in, and he said, “ Boy, what is the matter 
 with you?” So the boy said, when he 
 was at home his mother always gave him 
 two bags of gold, and told him to go to 
 sleep. But the boy said, ‘‘Now mind, 
 when you hear me snore I’m not asleep, 
 but when I am not snoring then I’m 
 asleep.” Then the boy went to sleep 
 
 and began to snore, and as long as the 
 
THH BROTHER AND HIS SISTERS. 117 
 
 man heard the snoring he blew his bel- 
 lows; but as soon as the snoring stopped, 
 the man took his irons out of the fire, 
 and the boy jumped up. Then the man 
 said, “Why, what’s the matter? why 
 can't you sleep?” The boy said, “No; 
 for at home my mother always gave me 
 four bags of money to lie upon.” Well, 
 the man said he should have them, and 
 brought him four bags of money. Then 
 the boy told him again the same about 
 his snoring, and the man bade him go to 
 sleep, and he began to snore, and the 
 man to blow his bellows until the snoring 
 stopped. Then the man took out his 
 irons again, and the boy jumped up, and 
 
 the man dropped the irons, saying, ‘“‘ Why, 
 
118 WEST INDIAN FOLK-LORE. 
 
 what’s the matter now, that you can’t 
 sleep?” The boy said, “At home my 
 mother always gave me two bushels of 
 corn.’ So the man said he should have 
 the corn, and went and brought it, and 
 told him to go to sleep. Then the boy 
 snored, and the man blew his bellows 
 till the snoring stopped, when he again 
 took out his irons, and the boy jumped 
 up, and the man said, “ Why, what’s it 
 now?” The boy said, “At home my 
 mother always goes to the river with a 
 sieve to bring me some water.” So the 
 man said, “ Very well, I will go; but I 
 have a cock here, and before I go I must 
 speak to it.” Then the man told the 
 
 cock, if he saw any one moving in the 
 
THE BROTHER AND HIS SISTERS. 119 
 
 house he must crow: that the cock pro- 
 mised to do, and the man set off. Now 
 when the boy thought the man was gone 
 far away, he got up and gave the cock 
 some of the corn; then he woke up his 
 sisters and showed them all the bones 
 the man had in the house, and they were 
 very frightened. Then he took the two 
 bags of gold on his shoulders, and told 
 his sisters to follow him. He took them 
 to the bay and put them into the boat 
 with the bags of gold, and left them 
 whilst he went back for the four bags 
 of money. When he was leaving the 
 house, he emptied the bags of corn to 
 the cock, who was so busy eating he 
 
 forgot to crow until they had got quite 
 
120 WEST INDIAN FOLK-LORE. 
 
 away. When the man returned home 
 and could not find them in the house, 
 he went to the river, where he found his 
 boat gone, and so he had no way of going 
 after them. When they landed at their 
 own place, the boy turned the boat over 
 and stove it in, so that it was of no use 
 any more; and he took his sisters home, 
 and told their mother all that had hap- 
 pened ; and his sisters loved him, and they 
 lived very happily together ever after- 
 wards, and do a still if they are not 
 
 dead. 
 
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WHY THE JACK SPANIARD’S* WAIST 
 IS SMALL 
 
 NANSI and Mosquito were talking 
 together one day, and boasting of 
 their father’s crops. Anansi said his 
 father had never had such a crop in his 
 life before ; and Mosquito said he was sure 
 his father’s was bigger, for one yam they 
 dug was as big as his leg. This tickled 
 Jack Spaniard so much that he laughed 
 till he broke his waist in two. So that’s 
 why the Jack Spaniard’s waist is so small. 
 
 1 The Jack Spaniard is a fly rather like a wasp. 
 
THE MAN AND THE DOUKANA TREE. 
 
 HERE was once a man and his wife 
 who were very poor, and they had 
 
 a great many children. The man was 
 very lazy, and would do nothing to help 
 his family. The poor mother did all she 
 could. In the wood close by orew a 
 Doukana tree which was full of fruit. 
 Every day the man went and ate some 
 of the fruit, but never took any home 
 so he ate and he ate till there were only 
 
 two Doukanas left on the tree. One he 
 
THE MAN AND THE DOUKANA TREE. 123 
 
 ate, and left the other. Next day, when 
 he went for that one, he was obliged 
 to climb up the tree to reach it; but 
 when he got up, the Doukana fell down ; 
 when he got down, the Doukana jumped 
 up; and so it went on till he was quite 
 tired. Then he asked all the animals 
 that passed by to help him, but they 
 all made some excuse. They all had 
 something to do. The horse has his 
 work to do, or he would have no grass 
 to eat. The donkey brayed. Last came 
 a dog, and the man begged him hard 
 to help him; so the dog said he would. 
 Then the man climbed up the tree, and 
 ‘the Doukana jumped to the ground again, 
 when the dog picked it up, and ran off 
 
124 WEST INDIAN FOLK-LORE. 
 
 with it. The man was very vexed, and 
 ran after the dog; but it ran all the 
 faster, so that the man could not over- 
 take him. The dog, seeing the man 
 after him, ran to the seashore, and, 
 scratching a hole in the ground, buried 
 himself, all but his nose, which he left 
 sticking out. Soon after the man came 
 up, and seeing the nose, cried out that 
 he had ‘“‘never seen ground have nose,” 
 and catching hold of it, he tugged till he 
 pulled out the dog, when he squeezed 
 him with all his might to make him give 
 up the Doukana. And that’s why dogs 
 
 are so small in their bodies to this day. 
 
THE EAR OF CORN AND THE TWELVE 
 MEN.’ 
 
 NANSI said to the king that if he 
 would give him an ear of corn he 
 would bring him twelve strong men. The 
 - king gave him the ear of corn, and he 
 went away. At last he got to a house, 
 where he asked for a night’s lodging, which 
 was given him. The next morning he got 
 up very early, and threw the ear of corn 
 out of the door to the fowls, and went back 
 
 1 This tale is imperfect at the beginning. 
 
126 WHST INDIAN FOLK-LORE. 
 
 to bed. When he got up in the morning 
 he looked for his ear of corn, and could not 
 find it anywhere, so he told them he was 
 sure the fowls had eaten it, and he would 
 not be satisfied unless they gave him the 
 best cock they had. So they were obliged 
 to give him the cock, and he went away 
 with it, all day, until night, when he 
 came to another house, and asked again for 
 a night’s lodging, which he got ; but when 
 they wanted to put the cock into the fow]- 
 house, he said no, the cock must sleep in 
 the pen with the sheep, so they put the cock 
 with the sheep. At midnight he got up, 
 killed the cock, threw it back into the pen, 
 and went back to bed. Next morning when 
 
 it was time for him to go away, his cock was 
 
HAR OF CORN AND THE TWELVE MEN. 127 
 
 dead, and he would not take anything for it 
 but one of the best sheep ; so they gave it 
 to him, and he went off with it all that 
 day, until nightfall, when he got to a 
 village, where he again asked for a night’s 
 lodging, which was given to him; and 
 when they wanted to put his sheep with 
 the other sheep, he said no, the sheep 
 must sleep with the cattle; so they put 
 the sheep with the cattle. In the middle 
 of the night he got up and killed the 
 sheep, and went back to bed. Next 
 morning he went for his sheep, which was 
 dead ; so he told them they must give him 
 the best heifer for his sheep, and if they 
 would not do so, he would go back and tell 
 
 the king, who would come and make war 
 
128 WEST INDIAN FOLK-LORE. 
 
 on them. So, to get rid of him, they were 
 glad to give him the heifer and let him 
 go; and away he went, and walked nearly 
 all day with the heifer. Towards evening 
 he met a funeral, and asked whose it was. 
 One of the men said it was his sister, so 
 he asked the men if they would let him 
 have her ; they said no, but after a while, 
 he begged so hard, saying he would give 
 them the heifer, that they consented, and 
 he took the dead body and walked away, 
 carrying it until it was dark, when he 
 came toa large town, where he went to 
 a house and begged hard for a night’s 
 lodging for himself and his sister, who was 
 so tired he was obliged to carry her, and 
 they would be thankful if they would let 
 
HAR OF CORN AND THE TWELVE MEN. 129 
 
 them rest there that night. So they let 
 them in, and he asked them to let them 
 sit in the dark, as his sister could not bear 
 the light. So they took them into a room 
 and left them in the dark ; and when they 
 were alone, he seated himself on a bench 
 near the table, and put his sister close by 
 his side, with his arm round her to keep 
 her up. Presently they brought them in 
 some supper ; one plate he set before his 
 sister and put her hand in it, and the 
 other plate for himself, but he ate out of 
 both plates. When it was time to go to 
 bed, he asked if they would allow his sister 
 to sleep in a room where there were twelve 
 strong men sleeping, for she had fits, and 
 if she had one in the night, they would be 
 
 I 
 
130 WEST INDIAN FOLK-LORE, 
 
 able to hold her, and would not disturb 
 the rest of the house. So they agreed to 
 this, and he carried her in his arms, 
 because, he said, she was so tired she was 
 asleep, and laid her in a bed; he charged 
 the men not to disturb her, and went him- 
 self to sleep in the next room. In the 
 middle of the night he heard the men 
 calling out, for they smelt a horrid smell, 
 and thus tried to wake the woman—first 
 one man gave her a blow, and then 
 another, until all the men had struck her; 
 but Anansi took no notice of the noise. 
 In the morning when he went in for his 
 sister and found her dead, he declared they 
 had killed her, and that he must have the 
 
 twelve men. To this the townsmen said no, 
 
HAR OF CORN AND THE TWELVE MEN. 181 
 
 not supposing that all the men had killed 
 her ; but the men confessed that they had 
 each given her a blow: so he would not be 
 satisfied with less than the twelve, and he 
 carried them off to the king and delivered 
 them up. 
 
 THE END. 
 
 PRINTED BY WILLIAM BLACKWOOD AND SONS. 
 
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