fairytale friday with the nis and the mare

Nis by Lennart Helje

Nis by Wayne Anderson

There was a man who lived in the town of Tirup, who had a very handsome white mare.  This mare had for many years gone, like an heirloom, from father to son, because there was a Nis attached to her, which brought luck to the place.
This Nis was so fond of the mare, that he could hardly endure to let them put her to any kind of work, and he used to come, himself, every night and feed her of the best; and as for this purpose he usually brought a superfluity of corn, both threshed and in the straw, from the neighbours' barns, all the rest of the cattle enjoyed the advantage of it, and they were all kept in exceeding good case.

It happened at last that the farm-house passed into the hands of a new owner, who refused to put any faith in what they told him about the mare, so the luck speedily left the place, and went after the mare to his poor neighbour who had bought her; and within five days after his purchase, the poor farmer who had bought the mare began to find his circumstances gradually improving, while the income of the other, day after day, fell away and diminished at such a rate, that he was hard set to make both ends meet.

Nis by Lennart Helje

If now the man who had gotten the mare had only known how to be quiet, and enjoy the good times that were come upon him, he and his children, and his children's children after him, would have been in flourishing circumstances till this very day.  But when he saw the quantity of corn that came every night to his barn, he could not resist his desire to get a sight of the Nis.  So he concealed himself one evening, at nightfall, in the stable' and as soon as it was midnight, he saw how the Nis came from his neighbour's barn and brought a sackful of corn with him.  It was now unavoidable that the Nis should get a sight of the man who was watching; so he, with evident marks of grief, gave the mare her food for the last time, cleaned, and dressed her to the best of his abilities, and when he had done, turned round to where the man was lying and bid him farewell.
From that day forward the circumstances of both the neighbours were on an equality, for each now kept his own.

Nis by John Bauer

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

fairytale friday with the troll turned cat

Troll turning into a mountain

vintage animal photography found at Getty Images

The Troll turned Cat
About a quarter of a mile from Soroe lies Pedersborg, and a little farther on is the town of Lyng.  Just between these towns is a hill called Brondhoi (Spring-hill), said to be inhabited by the Troll people.
There goes a story that there was once among these Troll people of Brondhoi an old crossgrained curmudgeon of a Troll, whom the rest nicknamed Knurremurre (Rumble-grumble), because he was evermore the cause of noise and uproar within the hill.  This Knurremurre having discovered what he thought to be too great a degree of intimacy between his young wife and a young Troll of the society, took this in such ill part, that he vowed vengeance, swearing he would have the life of the young one.  The latter, accordingly, thought it would be his best course to be off out of the hill till better times; so, turning himself into a noble tortoise shell tomcat, he one fine morning quitted his old residence, and journeyed down to the neighbouring town of Lyng, where he established himself in the house of an honest poorman named Plat.
Here he lived for a long time comfortable and easy, with nothing to annoy him, and was as happy as any tomcat or Troll crossed in love well could be.  He got every day plenty of milk and good groute to eat, and lay the whole day long at his ease in a warm armchair behind the stove.
Plat happened one evening to come home rather late, and as he entered the room the cat was sitting in his usual place, scraping meal-groute out of a pot, and licking the pot itself carefully.  "Harkye, dame," said Plat, as he came in at the door, "till I tell you what happened to me on the road.  Just as I was coming past Brondhoi, there came out a Troll, and he called out to me, and said,
"Harkye Plat,
Tell your cat,
That Knurremurre is dead."
The moment the cat heard these words, he tumbled the pot down on the floor, sprang out of the chair, and stood up on his hind-legs.  Then, as he hurried out of the door, he cried out with exultation, "What! is Knurremurre dead?  Then I may go home as fast as I please."  And so saying he scampered off to the hill, to the amazement of honest Plat; and it is likely lost no time in making his advances to the young widow.

black cat at the feet of a woman

scene from The Empty Boy illustrated by John Bauer