The Tale of the Man Who Became a Dog

A poor man used to watch the lazy dogs of his rich master. The dogs did no work, and lay by the warm fire when it was cold, and always ate the best of meats from off the master’s table. “Oh, bother!” said the poor man. “Why should I have to work all day, from dawn until after dark, for my miserable moldy potato and bit of rancid meat? If I were only as lucky as a dog, everything would be all right.” The next day when he awoke, he found he had turned into a basset hound. He went immediately to join the other dogs, and ate the best of meats from off the master’s table, and spent many happy hours dreaming by the warm fire. Then one winter day the master died, and new owners came and chased the dogs from the house. “Be off!” said the new master, “I have no use for lazy dogs!” At first the dogs didn’t believe he meant it, but when he pulled out his shotgun, the dogs all yelped and ran off into the snowy woods. Then they organized themselves and hunted in a pack, and lay together at night for warmth. The basset hound—who used to be a servant—tried to snuggle in with the pack, but they chased him off. The basset hound tried to eat some of the kill from the hunt, but the pack chased him off and laughed at him. “I am a dog like you!” said the basset hound. “You are a dog,” they agreed, “but not like us.” And the basset hound went off by himself and eventually died of cold and hunger.

The Tale of the Fishwife

Once a beautiful peasant girl, not quite woman-high, lived in a fishing village and worked tending nets and cleaning fish all day. She dreamed that a rich man might someday come by and notice her. “Surely he will be taken by my beauty, and take me away from these fish heads and nasty nets, and make me a fine lady in his beautiful house up on a hill, far away from the smelly village.” But as the years passed, she only saw fishermen and grocers, and the rich man never came. She married a fisherman named Jarl, and had seven children for him, six strong boys who became fishermen like their father, and one last child, a girl, who finally grew old enough to help with mending the nets and cleaning the fish. The daughter was as lovely as the fishwife used to be, and she often sang quietly while she helped her mother work. A rich man happened by and heard the singing, and when he looked at the daughter, he saw past all the fish heads and mess, and saw a lovely girl. Right then, he fell in love, and carried the daughter off to his fine house on the hill, far away from the miserable poverty of the fishing village. When Jarl came home and got the tale from the fishwife, he was overjoyed at their daughter’s fortune, and in his secret heart, he hoped to get some money from his new son-in-law. But the fishwife could only weep, and never tell why.

The Tale of the Whiteface

Once there was an entertainer in the king’s court who painted his face white, put on black clothing, and stopped speaking. He acted out, in perfect silence, all sorts of plays and silly things, and everyone who saw him laughed and applauded, for he was very good. Whiteface used no props; he could tell an entire story just by moving his hands and body, and making his face show all the right emotions. One day he pretended to be the king. He put on his imaginary crown, and everyone could see that he instantly became noble and wise and stern all at once. He took his imaginary scepter, adjusted his imaginary robes, and walked through the courtroom dispensing imaginary justice to imaginary criminals. Everyone laughed and tossed coins to him, for his imitation of the king’s expressions was perfect. Then his face became wily, and he lifted his imaginary robes and tiptoed with exaggerated care, and everyone could tell that Whiteface meant that the king was going somewhere in secrecy. Whiteface made some hand-gestures that everyone understood meant woman, and a few people tittered while the rest watched in suspense. Even the king sat forward on his throne to watch carefully. Whiteface tiptoed across the room and stopped, and everyone could tell he was pretending to open a door very, very quietly. Now the king was frowning, but Whiteface didn’t care. He opened his pants and stuck his hand inside. Whiteface’s eyes got very concerned, and he groped around inside his pants frantically. Everyone except the king was laughing now, but when they noticed that the king was angry, they fell silent. Whiteface shrugged and closed his pants up again, and his face was woeful. “That’s enough!” said the king, and he sent soldiers to drag Whiteface from the court in disgrace. But the queen gave Whiteface a gold coin and smiled to herself.