The Husband Who Was to Mind the House
THE HUSBAND WHO WAS TO MIND THE HOUSE
ONCE on a time there was a man, so surly and cross,
he never thought his wife did anything right in the house.
So one evening, in hay-making time, he came home, scolding
and swearing and showing his teeth and making a dust.
"Dear love, don't be so angry; there's a good man,"
said his goody; "to-morrow let's change our work.
I'll go out with the mowers and mow, and you shall mind the house at home."
Yes, the husband thought that would do very well. He was quite willing, he said.
So, early next morning, his goody took a scythe over
 her neck, and went out into the hay-field with the mowers and began to mow;
but the man was to mind the house, and do the work at home.
First of all he wanted to churn the butter; but when he had churned a while,
he got thirsty, and went down to the cellar to tap a barrel of ale.
So, just when he had knocked in the bung, and was putting the tap into the cask,
he heard overhead the pig come into the kitchen.
Then off he ran up the cellar steps, with the tap in his hand,
as fast as he could, to look after the pig, lest it should upset the churn;
but when he got up, and saw the pig had already knocked the churn over,
and stood there, routing and grunting amongst the cream which was running
all over the floor, he got so wild with rage that he quite forgot the ale-barrel,
and ran at the pig, as hard as he could. He caught it, too,
just as it ran out of doors, and gave it such a kick that piggy lay
for dead on the spot. Then all at once he remembered he had the tap in his hand;
but when he got down to the cellar, every drop of ale had run out of the cask.
Then he went into the dairy and found enough cream left to fill the churn again,
and so he began to churn, for butter they must have at dinner.
When he had churned a bit, he remembered that their milking cow was still shut up
in the byre, and hadn't had a bit to eat or a drop to drink all the morning,
though the sun was high. Then all at once he thought 'twas too far to take her down
to the meadow, so he'd just get her up on the house-top—for the house,
you must know, was thatched with sods, and a fine crop of grass was growing there.
Now their house lay close up against a steep down,
and he thought if he laid a
 plank across to the thatch at the back he'd easily get the
But still he couldn't leave the churn, for there was his
little babe crawling about on the floor, and "if I leave it,"
he thought, "the child is safe to upset it." So he took the
churn on his back, and went out with it; but then he
thought, he'd better first water the cow before he turned
her out on the thatch; so he took up a bucket to draw
water out of the well; but, as he stooped down at the
well's brink, all the cream ran out of the churn over his
shoulders, and so down into the well.
Now it was near dinner-time, and he hadn't even got
the butter yet; so he thought he'd best boil the porridge,
and filled the pot with water, and hung it over the fire.
When he had done that, he thought the cow might perhaps fall off
the thatch and break her legs or her neck.
So he got up on the house to tie her up.
One end of the rope he made fast to the cow's neck,
and the other he slipped down the chimney and tied round his own thigh;
and he had to make haste, for the water now began to boil in the pot,
and he had still to grind the oatmeal.
So he began to grind away; but while he was hard at
it, down fell the cow off the house top after all, and as she fell,
she dragged the man up the chimney by the rope.
There he stuck fast; and as for the cow, she hung, half-way down the wall,
swinging between heaven and earth, for she could neither get down nor up.
And now the goody had waited seven lengths and seven
breadths for her husband to come and call them home to
dinner; but never a call they had. At last she thought
she'd waited long enough, and went home. But when she
 got there and saw the cow hanging in such an ugly place,
she ran up and cut the rope in two with her scythe.
But as she did this, down came her husband out of the chimney;
and so when his old dame came inside the kitchen,
there she found him standing on his head in the porridge-pot.
from Popular Tales from the Norse
by George Dasent, 1888