Читать книгу The Christmas Tales of Flanders - Various Authors - Страница 4

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EPPY and Bella lived together in a very small house. There was only one room, which served as kitchen, bedroom, and stable for the animals.

All they possessed was a pig, a cow, and some hens. The pig lay on some straw between two stakes in one corner of the room, the cow was tied up to a wooden trough in another corner, the hens roosted on the rafters.

It was not a happy household; quarrels were frequent, and Seppy was always finding fault with Bella. When he came in from his work at midday the potatoes were either too hot or too cold, the soup too thick or too thin, and he reproached Bella bitterly, declaring that she lived a life of idleness, while he worked like a slave in the fields.

These scenes became so frequent that Bella grew tired of this cat-and-dog life.

One day, when he began to grumble as usual, she defied him, insisting that the next morning they should change places: she would go to work like a slave in the fields, while he should stay at home to do the cooking. “He will soon see,” she said, “that when all the work has been done properly, there is no time for twiddling one’s thumbs.”

Very early next morning Bella started off with a sack and a scythe to cut grass for the animals.

Seppy remained at home and took off his coat, saying to himself, “I will show her how clever I am.”

It was a Wednesday, the day for butter-making. Seppy put the churn on the three-legged stool in the middle of the room, poured in the milk, and began to churn gaily. He heard the milk beating against the sides of the churn, and whistled happily as he worked.

Presently he heard the stout village priest tramping up the road. He stopped at Seppy’s cottage, put his head in at the door and asked for a glass of water, being very hot and red in the face from having walked so far.

HOWEVER, THE PRIEST HAD A GLASS

“Water is very dangerous; wouldn’t you rather have a small jug of beer?” said Seppy. He left the churn and went to the beer-barrel which stood on three bricks in a corner of the room, as far as possible from the fire. The barrel had not been tapped. Seppy found the key and set about piercing the bung, using his shoe instead of a hammer. He gave such a heavy blow that he pierced right through the barrel. The beer ran all over the floor. However, the priest had a glass, and, much refreshed, he wished Seppy good day and went on his way.

“It is too bad to lose all this beer,” said Seppy. He turned the empty barrel on end, mopped up the beer with a cloth and squeezed it into the barrel, and so succeeded in saving a little.

Meanwhile the pig, attracted by the smell of the beer, set to work to lap it up greedily until he could not swallow another drop.

Seppy was very angry with the pig and gave him a blow, but as it showed no inclination to lie down, he hit it so hard that it rushed out of the door and fell into the well. Now the well was very deep, and Seppy tried to drag the pig out, but in vain, and it was drowned.

“The beer is spilt and the pig is drowned,” thought Seppy; “if any misfortune overtakes the cow, or I fail to churn the milk into butter, I shall be for ever disgraced in Bella’s eyes.”

SEPPY WAS VERY ANGRY WITH THE PIG

He then remembered that the cow had had nothing to eat, and that he had to prepare the soup before Bella came back. “Now I’m going to work methodically,” he said; “I will hang the stock-pot over the fire, then take Molly to graze in the field, and then finish making the butter.”

The fire soon burnt up. When he led the cow outside he couldn’t find any grass near the house, but he saw some growing on the roof! Choosing the spot where the roof sloped very low, he succeeded after frantic efforts in hoisting Molly on to the roof. He was re-entering the house when it occurred to him that Molly might slip off the roof into the well and be drowned. He went to the well, cut the rope off the bucket and tied it round the cow’s horns, throwing the other end down the chimney. He then ran into the house, caught the end of the rope and tied it round his leg.

“Now,” he said, “the cow cannot escape however much she may want to, and Seppy will have made the butter and soup before midday.”

The cream again lashed the sides of the churn, but Seppy had no longer the heart to sing; he was thinking about the spilt beer and the poor drowned pig.

Meanwhile the cow grazed on the roof. The earth not being very firm, she gradually slipped to the edge of the sloping roof. Suddenly, alackaday! she rolled off. As the result of her fall, Seppy was drawn up the chimney, where the soup was boiling over the fire.

SHE GRADUALLY SLIPPED TO THE EDGE OF THE SLOPING ROOF

Poor Seppy hung head downwards as far up the chimney as Molly was off the roof. To add to his misfortunes he had overturned the stool on which stood the churn, and so upset all the cream over the floor.

When Bella came home at midday, the first thing that met her eye was the cow, which being half strangled was dying outside the door. She quickly cut the rope with her scythe. Imagine her horror when on entering the cottage she found her husband hanging head downwards, dipping into the stock-pot.

SEPPY WAS DRAWN UP THE CHIMNEY, WHERE THE SOUP WAS BOILING OVER THE FIRE

Seppy never grumbled again. From henceforth Bella busied herself with her household duties. Seppy worked in the fields as before.

Seppy said to the pots, he said to the pans,

And likewise to the stools,

That men who try to do women’s work

Are all a parcel of fools.

The Death, Misery, the Old Man, and the Tree